


A Hellmouth Resurrection

by SpindleKitten



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Resurrection, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2019-07-29 22:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16273250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpindleKitten/pseuds/SpindleKitten
Summary: Willow's resurrection spell didn't go to plan. The biker demons interrupted the ritual, which allowed the PTB to hijack the spell and bring Buffy back from a different death. A more confident Buffy who is no longer quite so determined to spare her friends' feelings...A massive thanks to my wonderful beta Badwolfjedi





	1. Re-Resurrected

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is made from using the characters. Don't sue me.

She linked their fingers together and squeezed tight as flames sprung up around their joined hands. Tears stung her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

“I love you!”

She didn't understand his expression. He looked sad, like it hurt him to hear the words and there was definitely pain in his voice when he replied.

“No you don't, but thanks for saying it.”

Fury consumed her and she lashed out in the way she always had with him. The palm of her right hand connected solidly with his chest, right above his unbeating heart. How dare he not believe her!

“I love you, you stupid vampire!” She couldn't stop the tears from falling now.

“This isn't pity, or letting you hear what I think you want to hear before I leave you to die or any other stupid excuse you can come up with to deny me. I. Love. You.”

She emphasised her words by pressing firmly down against his chest. She pleaded with her eyes for him to believe her as she continued barely above a whisper: “I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before. That I couldn't. That I hurt you so bad...”

The flames from their joined hands spread down her arm. More appeared on the hand over his heart and they, too, whipped up towards her shoulders. Their eyes were still locked, this time in understanding that neither of them were getting out of this. The fire was engulfing her body as well as his.

As her body was consumed, she kept her gaze focused on him. Her love. Her vampire. As the pain of burning threatened to overcome her, before she was incapable of nothing but screaming, her final whispered words left her lips.

“I wish I had never hurt you...”

Fire. Burning. Pain. Buffy felt her body fall into dust and then seemed to coalesce back into herself. She was whole again. This wasn't like the last time she had died. Then she had been insubstantial. Whole. At peace. Now, she was... suffocating?

She gasped for oxygen. Her lungs screaming for more than the stale air around her seemed able to provide. She opened her eyes and was met with solid darkness. It was a familiar darkness – cold, dense and claustrophobic. She cautiously stretched out her arms and swore loudly when they hit padded satin bare inches above her.

How the _fuck_ had she ended up back in her coffin?

Tears burned her eyes. Surely Willow wasn't stupid enough to resurrect her again? She didn't know any other witches who would be strong enough to call the Slayer back from... where  _had_ she been? Last she remembered was burning up beside Spike in the Hellmouth. 

Come to think of it, how was she  _buried_ if she had been burned to ash? More importantly, what was she doing six feet under at all – had the Scoobies not learnt that lesson the first time?

The first time... could it be? Despite her terror and confusion, the memories of waking up in her coffin were still incredibly vivid and there was something seriously deja vu about this situation. Was it possible?

Her lungs shrieked at her again and Buffy decided to delay speculation for a time when she could actually  _breathe._ Fighting every instinct to just  _get the fuck out_ , she began to inhale, slow and deep. There still wasn't enough oxygen, but her almost meditative calm allowed her heart rate to decrease as she took in everything she could from the stale air. 

A minute passed like this, before she reached out to rip the satin from above her face. Remembering the deluge of earth filling her nose and mouth when she finally broke through the coffin lid last time, she managed to awkwardly manoeuvre a large swatch of the cloth over her face. It wouldn't allow for much protection, but should at least prevent that first mouthful of dirt.

Still breathing deeply, she focused her strength through her arms and began to hit at a single spot above her face. It seemed ages before the wood gave way, but the Slayer wouldn't allow herself to waste what little oxygen there was on panicking.

 _I guess there is something to be said for a repeat experience,_ Buffy thought with not a little irony. There was no need for trial and error this time as she worked the earth away from her face and down to the foot of her coffin. Slowly, methodically, she dug her way out.

Buffy broke the surface gasping. Her lungs burned and her hands were no less ripped and torn than last time, but her mind was calmer. She knew where she was, and as she turned and read the headstone she had appeared in front of, understood  _ when _ she was, too.

The noise and the fires and the chaos – she understood how she had believed herself to have woken in hell the first time. It wasn't hell, though. Just your average Tuesday on the Hellmouth.

She shivered. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't remember much of what had happened before she came back to herself somewhat as her sister helped her to wash. Her sister! Dawn was out there somewhere, she realised. She didn't know where and the chances of running into her in this madness... no. Spike would bring her home safe.

Slowly, not quite believing what had happened, she headed towards Revello Drive. As fate would have it, she had just climbed the porch steps when a motorbike carrying both her sister and her vampire squealed to a stop in front of the house. Spike dismounted, the fearsome weight of his anger directed at the small, lost-looking form of her sister and Buffy stepped deeper into the shadows that wrapped her home.

“The fuck, Bit! You can't just go haring off on your own like that! How'm I s'posed to keep you safe if you don't buggering do as you're told!”

“But Spike, I saw her! I saw _Buffy_!” 

Dawn pleaded, tears in her eyes, but the vampire's wrath wasn't appeased.

“Was the bleedin' bot and you know it! Big sis is gone and I'm sure as hell not going to be aiding your reunion anytime soon!” 

His voice had caught on the word _gone_ and the rest was little more than a growl as the frail girl collapsed against him in silent, shuddering sobs.   

Buffy took that as her cue to step into the lesser darkness of the front path. “No, Spike,” she said with quiet confidence, then added with derision “ _ that _ would be Willow's idea.”

The vampire's head whipped around at her words and she noticed the flare of his nostrils that said he was testing the air for her scent. Then there it was – that look of shock, adoration and awe that he had had the last time he saw her newly resurrected. “Buffy?”

It was barely a whisper, so quiet she wasn't sure if she even heard it or whether her mind had filled what her eyes had read. Tears sprung to her eyes and her throat was choked because  _ there he was _ . In less than a second she had rushed the length of the drive and thrown herself into a three way hug. 

Dawn had barely managed to raise her head in the direction of the house before the slayer missile hit, but was more than capable of sending a teary but very smug grin at Spike.

“I _told_ you it wasn't the bot!”

Aeons passed in the few moments that her family embraced in euphoric reunion. Until Buffy's words finally registered and Spike drew back, body tensing.

“Did you say _Willow_ did this?” 

Buffy nodded. “I did. It's a rather long story, though. Let me get cleaned up while I tell you?”

He finally registered her appearance, beyond her actually being there. Taking a step away from the sisters, he let his eyes take in every detail of the girl he loved. Filthy clothes, hair caked with mud and the sweet, sharp tang of slayer blood. His eyes widened and he reached forward to take the hand that had seconds ago been clinging to his bicep. He drew it up towards his face, in a vain attempt to disprove what his gut was telling him. Seeing the torn nails and bloody fingers filled him with horror.

“She didn't,” he ground out, eyes pleading with her “ _please,_ tell me she didn't.”

Buffy looked down. She didn't want to hurt him, but she couldn't lie. “They did,” she whispered. Then she nodded her head towards the door before he could ask any more questions. “Lets go inside.”

He took a couple of obvious, calming breaths before nodding. Dawn was still clinging to her sister's left arm, so Spike moved to the right of the Slayer and dared put his hand between her shoulder blades to guide his girls into the house. He almost tripped over his own feet in shock when Buffy not only allowed his touch, but leaned into him.

It was only after the trio had made their way upstairs that Spike reluctantly released his grip on his Slayer. With an awkward, almost embarrassed shuffle, he gestured towards the closed bathroom door and muttered “might be best if the Bit helps you shower, yeah?”

Buffy very deliberately didn't answer as she opened the indicated door. Dawn smirked at the flustered vampire and followed her sister.

“Right then. I guess I'll just head downstairs, make some tea or summit. Leave you ladies to it.”

Dawn winked and shut the bathroom door.

Buffy was standing in the middle of the room, looking alternately down at her filthy clothes and torn fingers.

“I'm sorry, Dawnie, but I'm gonna need your help.”

Dawn gave her sister a watery smile. “We haven't shared a bath in about ten years but I think I can live with the humiliation of seeing you naked again.”

Buffy managed an exasperated eye roll. She had missed this younger, innocent version of her sister. She could only hope that this time she didn't make quite such a mess of their relationship. Nothing was more painful than the moment when her sister had turned on her and kicked her out of their house.

Dawn took great delight in undressing and bathing her sister. Or rather, since she insisted Buffy do nothing to further injure her hands, she teased and babied and made the whole experience more fun than mortifying. She especially enjoyed the fact that she was now the bigger sister (physically, at least) and did an excellent impression of teenage Buffy scolding a young Dawn for being a filthy  _ child _ as she washed the mud from her hair. 

Although Buffy said nothing about what had happened, the younger Summers was not stupid. Her sister was the Slayer and had spent countless evenings waiting around in graveyards for vampires to rise. Between the mud and the injured hands she managed to join the dots. Buffy had been brought back to life  _ in her coffin _ like a worthless fledgling. She couldn't understand what Willow had been thinking.

Despite the need for repeated hair washings, the girls didn't dally in the shower and it was barely twenty minutes later that they were dressed and making their way back downstairs. They found Spike in the kitchen, tears rolling down his cheeks as he stood at the stove, stirring a pan of cocoa.

Buffy broke into his dream world. “Please tell me you haven't eaten all the little marshmallows,” she asked with a cheeky smile.

He dropped the spoon against the side of the pan and turned to face her. There was that look of total, disbelieving awe again.

“You're really here, aren't you. This isn't a dream.”

Buffy was appalled with her past self. How had she not seen? He  _ loved _ her. Obviously. Completely. And she had denied it. God, how pig headed and narrow minded had she been? How could she look into those eyes and believe him incapable of feeling? He felt more than any other being she had met.  _ Without _ his soul.

She took a step toward him, reaching out to place a hand on his leather-clad arm. She squeezed, tight enough to cut off the circulation in a human, and spoke with quiet determination. “I'm here, William. I've come back to you.”

He covered the space between them with speed only a vampire could muster. His arms drew her tight to his body and he leaned down so his forehead rested on her shoulder and he sobbed. Buffy kept her tight hold on his bicep, knowing that the pressure of her grip was a comfort. Her other hand found its way into the curls at the nape of his neck, drawing him closer into her as he let out his grief and relief.

In a gesture so unlike her usual self, Dawn stepped in to finish making their hot chocolate and afford the older couple a moment of privacy. As she placed the three mugs (two topped with a generous helping of mini marshmallows) onto the island in the centre of the kitchen, Spike finally seemed to gain a measure of control and drew back from Buffy.

In another uncharacteristically unselfish move, Dawn took a stool on the far side of the island, allowing her best friend the stool next to her sister. Buffy gave her a grateful look as she guided the vampire to sit. Hyper aware of her vampire's need for touch, Buffy made sure to sit close enough that she could squeeze one foot between his on the footrest of his stool. He shot her a bewildered look but did not hesitate to squeeze her calf between his own.

The three basked in the joy of being together for long minutes. It wasn't until Buffy reached for her mug that Spike broke the silence with a growl.

“First aid kit, Bitesize.”

Dawn flushed. She had forgotten about Buffy's hands. They had washed away the dirt and the blood when in the shower, but neither had thought to get out the bathroom first aid kit and properly tend the wounds while they were upstairs.

Spike tenderly unwound Buffy's hand from the mug and gently cleaned each finger with the cotton pad that Dawn had poured antiseptic wash onto. He repeated the process with her knuckles then set about removing a couple of deeply embedded splinters from the back of her hand. He didn't bother with bandages. Slayer healing would have faded most of the injuries by morning.

He worked in silence. When he was done, he reverently drew her fingers to his lips before wrapping them back around the mug and repeating the process on her other hand.

Buffy focused her gaze on his face. Watching him as he tended her wounds made her fall in love with him all over again. Her heart swelled in her chest and when he finally met her eyes, as he brushed her fingers against his lips for the second time, she was hard pressed to keep the tears from her eyes. Instead, she squeezed the hand beneath hers and gave him a sincere

“Thank you, Spike.”


	2. Scooby Invasion

Spike was confused. His mind was totally overwhelmed and he couldn't make head or tails of what was happening to him. He must be dreaming, except it was _real_ and he couldn't deny the solid, reassuring presence of her calf held tight between his own. 

He just didn't understand. Buffy,  _ his Buffy _ was back. She was alive again. He was thrilled! But Red had messed up the resurrection.  _ Of course _ she had. Stupid bint hadn't stopped to think about  _ where _ his beautiful Slayer would be waking up! She'd been forced to fight her way out of her damned coffin! His demon roared with impotent rage. The meddling witch had done to Buffy what vampires did to  _ break _ their fledglings. He was  _ livid _ .

Then again, Buffy wasn't acting broken. Of course she wasn't. His beautiful, brave Slayer wouldn't be brought down by something as benign as six feet of hard-packed earth! But there was definitely something... off. Because Buffy wasn't acting like she hated him. In fact, first thing she'd done was hug him and the Bit. Together. She didn't drag her sister from his arms to hold her.

In fact, she let him put his arm around her right up until she went into the bathroom. And when they came back down, she had held him as he cried – called him bleeding  _ William _ and said that she had come back  to him . Not just that she was back, but that she had come to  _ him _ **.** And she hadn't stopped touching him since.

Spike was very confused.

They sipped their hot chocolate in silence. When the mugs were finally empty, Dawn collected them and put them to soak in the sink. Then she gave her sister a firm look but spoke with a pouting little-girl voice, the gentle teasing taking the edge off the tense atmosphere that hung heavy around them.

“You said you were going to tell me a story, Buffy.”

The blond girl smiled a tired kind of smile and nodded.

“Yes, Dawnie. I owe you both a story. Let's go into the other room. Hopefully I can get through it before the interruption arrives.”

Spike and Dawn exchanged a glance at the unusual phrasing but stoically followed Buffy into the front room. The elder Summers settled comfortably in the middle of the sofa and silently patted the cushions either side of her. Neither vampire nor mystical key had any objections to the seating arrangement.

Before she started, Buffy put her hands palm up in her lap. Dawn took the hint immediately and laced her fingers through her sister's. Spike hesitated to copy the action until fixed with a pointed look from both girls. When his hand was wrapped around her own, Buffy let out a happy sigh and leaned back into the cushions.

Closing her eyes, she quietly began her tale.

“As you both have guessed by now, Willow found a spell to resurrect me and convinced the others to help her. I don't know how she managed to get Anya and Tara to agree – they both know better than to mess with that kind of magic – but somehow she did and the four of them called me back.

“As usual, Willow cut corners and thought she knew best. She was certain that Glory's portal had stranded me in a hell dimension. She didn't think about the fact that your body tends to travel through dimensions with you. If I had gone through the portal, I would have just vanished. I didn't go through. I sacrificed myself to  _ close  _ the portal. I died and went to the same place every Slayer goes when they die. 

“I was in Heaven.”

Both Spike and Dawn gasped at the news, though neither made any attempt to interrupt and so Buffy continued.

“The arrogant witch dragged me out of heaven. There's a serious price for that – bringing  _ anyone _ out of heaven would cost dearly, but a  _ Slayer - _ one whose death  _ saved the world _ –  **that** cost a lot more than the poor little fawn that she lured from its mother.”

Spike growled low in his chest. He understood more than most about magic and consequences and was utterly disgusted by Willow's attitude.

“The price wasn't paid and so the First Evil was able to create a stronghold in this world. We suffered  _ so much _ . Potential slayers were slaughtered in their hundreds. The council was blown up. The Hellmouth was overrun. We had to save the world  _ again _ .”

She turned a little in her seat, halfway facing Spike. Her eyes fixed his own and he understood that the  _ we _ meant himself and Buffy. 

“I don't understand.”

Dawn's shaking voice broke the connection between vampire and slayer. Buffy wasn't entirely surprised when Spike answered for her.

“What it means, Bit, is that Red messed up and the world is going to hell. And for some reason, your sister has already lived it.”

Dawn turned her sharp gaze to her sister.

“You mean, you've travelled through time?”

“Yes Dawnie, that's it in a nutshell.”

The distant slam of a car door caught her attention and she continued urgently.

“I don't want the others knowing.  _ Especially _ not Willow. Promise me, Dawnie. I'll tell you more another day, but they will be back any minute and I need to know that you won't tell them anything about me knowing the future. Promise me!”

The fear in her sister's tone left Dawn deeply shaken and she didn't even think about denying her.

“Of course, Buffy. Just so long as I get the full story later.”

Buffy's reply was forestalled by a quietly emphatic “I promise.” from Spike. She squeezed his hand and turned to him with a smile.

“Of course you do,” she said before returning to her sister, “Dawnie, I promise a lot of long, detailed conversations but even without a Scooby interruption I would be too tired right now.”

As if her words had summoned them, in that instant the front door was slammed open and the Scoobies barrelled through into the house. They seemed to notice the trio on the sofa all at once and suddenly there was a barrage of exclamations and “Buffy!”s as they all tried to shout over one another.

Before they had crossed the threshold into the front room, Dawn was on her feet. Arms crossed in front of her, she stood between her sister and the very loud invasion.

“ _What_ did you _do_ to my sister?” she demanded fiercely.

Willow stepped forward.

“What do you mean? We  _ rescued _ her.”

Dawn snorted and Buffy exchanged a quick glance with Spike. The smirk on his face told her that he, too, had an idea of what the youngest Summers was up to.

“Rescued her?” asked Dawn incredulously, “Why on earth would she need to be rescued from  _ Heaven?” _

Behind Willow, Tara and Anya both paled dramatically. Xander looked uncertain.

“H-h-h-heaven?” The blonde witch stuttered a whisper.

“Heaven,” Dawn confirmed.

“That's impossible!” Willow declared with arrogant self importance. “Buffy fell into the portal for a  _ hell dimension _ ergo she was in hell and we  _ rescued _ her.”

Spike opened his mouth to voice his own opinion on the matter, but a squeeze of their still-linked hands and a barely noticable shake of the head from Buffy stalled him. She wanted to give her sister a chance.

“Anya, you know about dimensional portals, right?”

The question seemed to confuse both the witch and the ex-demon but the latter answered with a nod so Dawn continued her line of questioning.

“So, then, Anya – what happens to their body when a person goes through a dimensional portal?”

Anya looked at her like she was stupid and answered in the slow, pointed voice she retained for particularly dimwitted customers.

“The person's body goes through the portal. It's kind of attached to the person.”

Dawn nodded as if she was well aware of this fact (which, of course, she was).

“Then tell me, Anya, how it is that you believed my sister had travelled to a hell dimension _without_ her body.”

Anya looked utterly bewildered at the question. How could she not have made that connection. Of course Buffy had simply  _ closed _ the portal and died to do so. And everyone knows that slayers go to heaven when they die. It was a perk of the whole sacred calling. 

A now very pale Anya turned to Willow and screamed “What did you  _ do _ to me?!” before turning and fleeing from the house. 

The glare Dawn had fixed on Willow intensified, but before she could make any further comment, Xander finally seemed to notice Spike's presence next to Buffy.

“What is the evil undead doing here?” His demand was aggressive and raised the Slayer's hackles.

“ _ Spike _ is here because I want him to be. He  _ helped _ me this evening,” Buffy spoke quietly but firmly. Then added in an undertone, “unlike some.”

“What is that supposed to mean? What could he have possibly helped you with that compares to giving you back your life?”

A tear tracked slowly down her cheek and she gave a full body shudder at the reminder of how she was given back her life.

Dawn didn't let her think of a reply.

“He fixed her hands. The ones she tore up digging her way back out of her GRAVE!”

The last word was shrieked in true Dawn fashion, but while the couple on the sofa merely winced Xander and Willow looked down guiltily. Tara had retreated back into the hall, deathly pale and shaking so hard she was forced to sit at the foot of the stairs.

Buffy decided to take control of the situation; she was too tired for arguments. Getting to her feet (one hand trailing behind her with a firm grip on her vampire) she spoke with a detached but firm tone.

“Xander, Willow. I know you both thought you were helping me, but I can't be around you both right now. I'm tired and sore and I need you both to leave so that I can go to bed now.”

Willow gave her kicked puppy face, but before she could complain about the fact that her bed was upstairs, Buffy shot her down.

“I mean it, Willow. I can't be around you right now. Just go.”

Xander stepped up to his best friend and put a hand on her arm.

“Don't worry, Wills – there's space on my sofa for tonight.”

Willow turned to take her lover's hand and lead her out the door when she realised that the quiet witch was nowhere to be seen. She hadn't noticed Dawn slip past her and guide the shaking girl into the kitchen while Buffy was evicting her oldest friends.

Xander, assuming that Tara had followed Anya out the door, took Willow by the elbow and guided her onto the porch. He turned, calling over his shoulder to Spike.

“Come on, dead boy junior. Buffy said she wants to sleep so get your creepy stalker self out here.”

The grip she maintained on his hand would have made complying impossible, even had he wanted to do as the whelp said.

“Xander, go. Spike is my guest and is welcome in my home. You are not. Please take Willow and I will see you both soon.”

Xander looked like he might complain, but Buffy found shutting the door in his face to be a satisfactory way of preventing an argument. She locked the door, leaving the key in so that it couldn't be opened again from the outside. She couldn't stop Willow from magicking her way in, but it was a pretty strong hint regardless.

The blond couple made their way into the kitchen where Dawn was trying valiantly to calm Tara. The Wiccan looked up at their entrance and burst into tears.

“Tara, I don't blame you. I know Willow was the driving force behind this spell. I wouldn't be surprised if she  _ convinced _ you to help, especially given Anya's reaction.”

“If you had implied that she used magic on me yesterday I would have never believed you,” the witch sniffled, “but I've been trying to remember everything she told us about this spell and I just can't understand why I would have gone along with it.”

Buffy reached forward and put a gentle hand on the quiet girl's shoulder.

“I am sorry,” she said sincerely, “but I'm going to have to ask for your help. Willow will be angry that I'm not properly thankful and I can't fight magic. I don't think she'll do more than rant tonight, but after that is anyone's guess.”

Tara's eyes went wide with fear and the dreadful understanding of what her lover was capable of.

“Las' time Red thought we dint  _ understand _ her feelings, she cast a will-be-done and it went so spectacular that D'Hoffryn tried recruitin' her.”

It only took a moment for Tara to place the name D'Hoffryn as Anya's vengeance demon boss and she looked like she might be sick. Buffy decided to intervene.

“Willow has a good soul. She doesn't  _ intend _ to hurt people, but she does like things to go the way she believes is right and she's started using magic to force her opinion. She needs to learn magical ethics and until she does I can't trust her not to try and fix things. I don't believe she is a danger in the Big Bad sense right now, but I wouldn't put it past her to mess with our memories. In fact, making us all forget I was in heaven, or even that I was dead at all sounds like something she would definitely think is 'for the best'. That terrifies me.”

Tara nodded solemnly.

“She can't do much tonight. All her magic stuff is here and I doubt Anya will give her the key for the Magic Box right now. I'll put a charm on the doors so that she can't get in magically and look into safeguarding our memories in the morning.”

Buffy gave her a warm, reassuring smile.

“And Buffy, I know you don't blame me but I am so very sorry for my role in your resurrection.”

The timid witch made her way around the island to the back door and hesitated.

“Er.. the charm will be broken when the door is opened from the inside. I don't know how to do anything that lasts longer than that. I don't mean to take charge in your house, but Spike will need to leave and I am afraid I really need to sleep.”

When Spike made to take his hand back and head to the door, Buffy squeezed hard. Her voice was firm and left no room for argument.

“Spike is staying tonight, Tara. Go ahead and seal the doors.”

Dawn gave her sister a calculating look but said nothing, choosing instead to burst into a fit of giggles at the bewildered expression on the vampire's face.

Tara spoke a quick blessing over the door and smiled when a light shimmered around the frame. “It worked,” she said unnecessarily.

They followed her through to the front door, where she repeated the process. As she turned to go upstairs, Buffy called her back.

“Tara, will you be ok on your own tonight? Dawn can sleep in with you if you need the company.”

Tara smiled gratefully and looked at the dark haired girl.

“What do you say, Dawnie? Sleepover?”

On a normal day, the teenager would have loudly protested anything her sister volunteered her for. Today she just smiled, nodded and made to follow the girl who was almost as much a sister to her as the annoying blood-related one.

Half way up the stairs, she turned back. “You coming, Buffy?”

“In a bit, Dawnie. I need to get Spike settled first.”

The teen gave her a knowing look but went upstairs without further comment.

Buffy led Spike back to the sofa and settled in facing him.

“What were we?”

His quiet question was not unexpected. Buffy smiled.

“Its complicated. You loved me. I hurt you. You hurt me. We healed. I loved you. You didn't believe me. We died.”

He raised his eyebrows and she shrugged. “Cliff notes version.”

“What are we now?”

Another expected question that she answered with a shrug.

“I think its too late to answer that right now. Its been a very long, emotional day and exhausted Buffy isn't the best at rational decision making.”

He smiled and she put a hand to his chest to stop his interruption.

“I know that I love you as much – if not more – now than I did when we burned together in the Hellmouth a few hours ago. I know that you love me. I just don't know what we are or what I want us to be and my head is not in a place to make that decision right now.

“I need to tell you everything. About the First. About us. I can't let you make a decision you might regret because I held something back that will later be revealed and hurt you. So right now I don't know what we are or will be. Can you wait until tomorrow?”

Spike was choked with emotion, tears dangerously close to falling, as he replied.

“Buffy, Sweetheart. I only ever asked for a crumb. You've given me that a hundred times and more this evening and with that I can wait forever for you.”

She buried her face in his chest and squeezed him close with her free arm.

“Forever is too long. Just give us a couple of days...”

They sat in contented silence for a long time. Spike was overwhelmed with everything that had happened that evening and allowed himself to get lost in the sensation of warm, solid living Buffy curled at his side. The quiet clattering of the two girls upstairs had stopped and their slow, steady heart rates indicated that both had fallen asleep. His Slayer was not far off herself.

“Buffy, luv,” he gently shook her shoulder, “'s time for you to head up. Don' want you all uncomfortable on the sofa all night.”

“Come with me?” She asked groggily and he stared at her incredulously.

“Sweetheart, 'm fine here. Lets get you up to bed.”

Buffy met his gaze. She was sleepy, but obviously not so tired as to not know what she was saying.

“Would you just hold me tonight? I need to feel safe.”

Spike could do nothing to stop the tears from falling. His voice was hoarse with emotion as he scooped her up into his arms, heading for the stairs.

“Anything you want, kitten. Spike's got you.”


	3. Calling Giles

The sun stretched rosy fingers across the horizon but the Summers house slept on. It was mid morning before the two girls occupying the master bedroom stirred and crept down the stairs, mindful of the vampire sleeping on the sofa.

Or so they had assumed. The front room was unoccupied.

Dawn had made Tara check the doors and once the witch had confirmed that the charms were still in place, she headed down the basement stairs (the most obvious place to hide a vampire). Spike wasn't there.

Tara suggested that perhaps Buffy had offered Dawn's bed, since the teenager had shared with her, and the grinning girl ran back upstairs with plans of interrogation to ensure the sanctity of the newly re-started Dawn Chronicles. Her bed was empty, still unmade from the previous morning.

Feeling stupid for not thinking it before, she crept across the hall and peeked through the gap in her sister's not-quite-closed door. There were two figures on the bed. She slunk back downstairs with an evil smirk and plans to embarrass her sister.

“You find him?” Tara asked quietly from her place at the stove as she flipped another pancake.

She replied with a very smug “Yup.”

Then, after what she felt was a dramatic enough pause, continued. “They sure look cosy, all snuggled up together in Buffy's bed.”

Tara adopted a sufficiently scandalized expression, though she was in reality not surprised. She had been expecting it, the way the pair had clung together the previous evening. Nevertheless, she indulged her young friend in her discovery.

She watched as Dawn gleefully smothered her stack of pancakes with syrup, hot sauce and  _ Oh Goddess is that anchovies? _

Feeling a little sick, she turned back to the stove and focused on making elaborate patterns in the next pancake.

Dawn had finished eating and was watching Tara across the kitchen island when she jumped to her feet with more than her usual teenage urgency.

“Oh my God, Giles!”

The young witch made a quick calculation, smiled and gestured toward the phone.

“He should be home. Its not late for him yet, Dawnie.”

Dawn punched the number for Giles' home in Bath with unerring familiarity. She had, in fact, dialled the number every day since her sister's watcher had abandoned them in order to give him a piece of her mind. Unfortunately she had never been brave enough to press the call button and so this would be the first time she had actually spoken to the man in weeks. She tapped her fingers in an impatient rhythm against the wall as she waited for the call to be connected.

It didn't take long.

“Hello, Rupert Giles speaking. May I ask who is calling?”

Dawn rolled her eyes. His phone answering voice had become even more stiff and British whilst he was away.

“It's me, Giles. Dawn Summers. Remember, you abandoned us when my sister died.”

The line was silent for a moment and Dawn couldn't tell whether he was trying to stop himself from sounding angry or guilty.

“Dawn. It's good to hear from you. Is this a social call or is the Hellmouth causing trouble.”

“Its more than your typical Tuesday, that's for sure. Willow is going magic crazy. She brought Buffy back. Dragged her out of Heaven. Now she's mad that we aren't worshipping her greatness.”

Behind her, Tara winced at the description of her lover's actions. They were accurate, but Dawn could have at least  _ tried  _ to make her seem a little less like an apocalypse waiting to happen. 

On the other end of the line was nothing but stunned silence for a full minute.

“Dawn,” he croaked, voice heavy with emotion, “tell me this isn't a joke.”

The teen rolled her eyes and passed the phone to Tara.

“M-m-mr Giles?”

“Tara?” He asked, obviously confused by the sudden change in conversation partners. Presumably this was Dawn's way of confirming her innocence (or avoiding his anger if this were all a trick).

“Y-yes. Did you w-want to speak with me?”

Too impatient for facts to worry about the niceties of conversation, Giles jumped straight in to the one question he needed to have answered.

“Tara, dear, is it true? Is Buffy really back?”

“Y-yes. W-we r-r-r-r-r brought her back.”

Back in Bath, Giles was starting to really worry. He had never heard Tara stutter so hard she had to pick a different word before. Something was definitely wrong. There was really no other option, he couldn't help from across the pond.

“I will be on the next plane. Goodbye Tara.”

The line went dead before she could reply.

Buffy and Spike had still not surfaced when Giles called back two hours later to announce that his flight would be landing in LAX at 1am that night. Tara promised him that they would meet him at the airport. Hopefully neither he nor Spike would object to the vampire playing chauffeur.

It was late afternoon and dinner preparation was well underway when Buffy and Spike finally woke. They had been too emotionally drained the night before to do more than collapse atop the bed and settle in a comfortable embrace. Neither had been eager to leave the bed, but the smell of dinner being prepared had made its way upstairs and Buffy's stomach decided to make its desire known and so the couple had made their way downstairs.

Dawn seemed to have forgotten her earlier plan of interrogation and torment in favour of greeting the couple with a supersonic squeal and an almost supernaturally fierce hug, before darting back across the room and popping a bag of blood in the microwave.

Buffy looked from Tara to Dawn before shrugging and leaning back against Spike's chest. The vampire responded immediately, wrapping an arm around her waist and nuzzling his nose against the top of her head. She sighed but didn't protest. Stupid vamp had been sniffing her all night.

A minute later, Dawn was pressing a mug of perfectly heated blood into Spike's free hand.

“Mystery seasoning?” the vampire smirked.

Dawn nodded. It had become something of a game for the two of them over the summer. Dawn would add something to his blood and Spike would have to guess the mystery seasoning and give it marks out of ten. Those he enjoyed would then be added to his mental 'how to make pig swill more palatable' list.

Spike took a long sip and began to mutter. “Somethin' sweet... definitely hot sauce.. somethin' – Jesus, Bit, is that  _ anchovies?!” _

“Yuhuh. Syrup, hot sauce and anchovies.”

Buffy's stomach protested at the thought and she noticed Tara had paled a shade or two at the pronouncement, shuddered and then whispered to the two superbeings.

“Sh-she had that on  _ pancakes _ this morning.”

“Really, Dawn, could you  _ be  _ any more disgusting?”

“It's not disgusting, it's good! Tell them it's good, Spike!”

But the vampire had learned his lesson when it came to sparing his Bit's feelings over her mystery seasonings. He did not  _ ever _ want to face another mug of sweet and spicy anchovies.

“Sorry, Bit. You're on your own this time. That's just not right.”

With a grimace, he choked down the rest of the mugfull. He had never quite been able to bring himself to actually throw out any of Dawn's concoctions. No matter how disastrous, good manners dictated he finish his meal.

“Gah,” he shuddered, “Nibblet, I think you've finally found something that tastes  _ worse _ than pig swill on the turn.”

Dawn sniffed huffily and turned her back on her best friend. Buffy rolled her eyes at the dramatics and decided to change the subject.

“So, girls, anything exciting happen while I slept the day away?”

Tara shifted guiltily. “A-actually..” she began, but Dawn interrupted.

“I phoned Giles, told him what was going on but he didn't believe me until Tara confirmed it. His flight gets in at 1am and Tara promised him we'd meet him in LA so I hope you don't mind driving, Spike.”

Tara flushed and looked down, but before she could apologise Spike grumbled his acquiescence.

“'s ok, Glinda. Don' mind drivin' s'long as the watcher don' complain 'bout my car.”

Patting the hand that still rested on her abdomen in a consoling manner, Buffy half-turned her head to speak to the man at her back.

“We'll be back long before sunrise, Spike. We can take Mom's jeep then Giles will have nothing to complain about.” Then, before he could find any reason to grumble, she turned back to Tara.

“So, what else have you been up to?”

“Mostly research,” said the quiet witch. “We've been looking into memory-spell p-p-protection and more long term w-wards for the house. I've got a few ideas that I'd like to discuss with M-mr Giles tomorrow.”

Buffy nodded. “Good. Now, I make it about five hours before we need to hit the road – I guess that's enough time for dinner and a story.”

Dawn looked up eagerly. Spike squeezed her waist. Tara furrowed her brow.

“I feel like I'm missing something, here.”

“I promised these two the story of how I died three times and was brought back twice.”

The witch stared at her for a long minute at the seemingly impossible, cryptic statement. Then she proved her intelligence and innate understanding of magic.

“Time travel? Something about your third death let you come back again and because Willow's spell was interrupted there was some magical wiggle room that let the Powers intervene on your behalf?”

“Damn Glinda, you're good. Is she right, Buffy?”

The blonde shrugged against his chest. “I don't know, Spike. All I know is that one minute I'm on fire, the next I'm in my coffin. Again. Then I realise that it's the same resurrection-gone-bad and headed home to find you and Dawn. I really haven't had a chance for research.”

Spike went preternaturally still behind her. When he spoke, it was too quiet for the other two to hear and she could literally feel the tremble he was fighting to keep from his voice.

“You had to dig out  _ twice? _ Buffy -”

She didn't let him continue. Turning to face him, she wrapped him in a strong hug and spoke in a similarly low voice.

“I'm fine, Spike. I'm here. I'm safe. I'm with you. Right now is not the time. Yesterday didn't break me.”

She felt him nod against the side of her head and squeezed another couple of seconds before letting go. Tara and Dawn had afforded them a moment of privacy, plating up the dinner, and Buffy was thankful for the tact and understanding both girls were capable of.

Once they were all settled around the dining table, Buffy began her story. She didn't mention waking up in her grave again, afraid to further upset Spike who knew only too well how traumatic such an experience was. She was also fairly sure that he hadn't missed the implication that the first time she woke in her grave _had_ broken her.

Over dinner, she detailed much of the first months after her resurrection. The others let her speak, asking questions only to clarify their understanding of events. She made little of her relationship with Spike beyond admitting that he had been a comfort when her friends were too overbearing and the bills were piling up. A few meaningful glances had let Spike know that yes, there was more to that story and no, it was not going to be discussed in front of her sister.

They moved to the more comfortable seating in the front room after dinner. Buffy once again ended up sandwiched between her sister and her vampire as she continued her story. She noticed Tara growing paler as she listened to Willow's descent into magic addiction and brought it to her sister's attention. Dawn dutifully left the couch to perch on the armchair beside Tara and wrap the other girl in a comforting hug.

It was only after recounting the end of the Geek Trio, Tara's death and Willow's grief-stricken attempt to end the world that Dawn noticed something – or rather someone – missing from the narrative.

“What was Spike doing? I mean, you haven't mentioned him in ages...”

Buffy reddened and gripped the man-in-question's hand almost painfully tight.

“We... well we had a fight. It was another Buffy-Spike miscommunication blowout and Spike... left. Not permanently. I mean, he came back after a few months. He just... realised that we needed some time apart.”

Dawn didn't look convinced, but held her tongue wanting to hear the rest of the story.

Spike held tight to Buffy's hand. He could think of only one thing that would make him choose to leave his Slayer's side. He really, really hoped he hadn't hurt her.

Tara, ever tactful and aware of others' feelings, interjected with her own question.

“What happened with Willow? I mean, she went all dark magic crazy but then Xander talked her out of ending the world. Were her powers bound?”

Buffy smiled her thanks at the witch for diverting the focus from Spike.

“No. I mean, for a bit, I think. Sorry, I'm not explaining well. She went to England to study with a coven in Devon and I think they bound a lot of her powers to start with until she learned control but by the time she came home she was wicked powerful again, just... not wicked.”

Dawn rolled her eyes at her sister's inability to form coherent sentences.

Back on track with the storytelling, Buffy recounted the re-opening of the high school over the hellmouth; her new job at the school and the slayer's son who would be headmaster. Spike was surprised at that.

“Din' know any slayers had sprogs recently.”

Buffy's quiet reply, “it was Nicki,” didn't mean much to the two girls across the room.

It was past ten when she reached the final battle of the Hellmouth and described her third death. She felt quite proud of the fact she had covered all the pertinent details without letting slip about the train-wreck of her relationship with Spike, or the fact that the vampire sought out his soul for her.

In fact, she hadn't mentioned the soul at all. Even knowing that Dawn and Tara were not judgemental, she didn't want there to be any external pressure on Spike to change. Only herself and Spike would ever know about the possibility if she had her way.

The clock was ticking its way to half past ten, their designated leaving time, and Dawn wasn't happy. She had only just realised that Buffy and Spike meant to leave her behind when they left to collect Giles. Unfortunately her usual powers of persuasion were not standing up well against the Slayer and vampire united.

Finally Spike put his foot down.

“Look, Bit, I know you want to see the watcher, but is that really worth four or five hours stuck sleeping upright in the back of the car? Wouldn't you rather wait all comfy in your bed? I'll even promise to get you up when we're home so you can play hostess over a pot of tea.”

Reluctantly, she agreed. Buffy was relieved; she knew this was the most time she was likely to get alone with Spike for a good while and was determined to cover as much of their future history as she could before she lost her nerve.

Besides, she had promised Spike that he would only have to wait a couple of days and she was determined to keep her word.


	4. Roadside Confessions

Buffy stared down at her lap silently, resolutely studying her clenched hands. She was sat in the passenger seat of her Mom's jeep as Spike drove them through the silent streets of Sunnydale. As soon as they had started on the journey to collect Giles, she had been overcome with nerves and although she wanted nothing more than to tell Spike everything, she couldn't find the courage to start talking.

Spike drove in tense silence for five minutes before letting out a low growl of frustration.

“I thought you had somethin' to say, Slayer.”

Buffy flinched at his less than gentle tone. For some reason, once she was alone with Spike all her insecurities had come flooding back and overwhelmed her. Perhaps because she knew, deep down, that it was safe to be weak with him. Her vampire had never expected her to be strong all the time, had never criticized or judged her for showing weakness. Nevertheless, she cringed at the pathetic tone in her voice when she answered him.

“I don't know what to say.”

And in his typical fashion of innate understanding, his voice took on a soothing tone that made her wish she could just curl up in his arms.

“Jus' start at the beginning. Tell me how I helped you, las' time you came back.”

That was all it took to open the floodgates. She described how he had become her confidante. She told him all the secrets that had come out thanks to the disaster of Sweet's musical incursion, how it had changed their relationship. The disaster of finding out that he could hurt her. Taking the house down.

Tears flowed continuously as she described the horror their relationship became. How she had hurt him. Used him. Beaten him. Though she choked on her tears and self-disgust the words kept coming and the grief-stricken vampire drove on, listening in silence.

He managed to bite his tongue as she told of the surveillance cameras and seeing him seeking solace with an equally fragile Anya. He could not hold back a broken, hoarse exclamation when she spoke of what had happened in the bathroom.

His worst fears were realised. He had hurt her.

His hands were shaking so hard that Spike could barely grip the steering wheel and the road ahead was nothing but a blur through his tears, so he was forced to pull the car over onto the hard shoulder.

As soon as the vehicle stopped, Spike had a lap-full of blubbering Slayer. She clung desperately to his shoulders, terrified that the mere knowledge that in another future their relationship had devolved to _that_ would send him running as surely as the act itself had.

They cried together for several long minutes. Eventually, Buffy deciphered the rasping litany of whispers being pressed into her hair.  _I'm Sorry._ Over and over. 

She pulled back and felt him tense beneath her. Somehow mustering a faint smile, she took his face in her hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. She spoke with forceful calm.

“I love you. It hasn't happened and it won't happen but when it did I forgave you and I loved you. It wasn't your fault -”

A finger to his lips silenced what was obviously going to be a protest.

“It wasn't. I was broken and I used you and your love for me and it left _you_ broken, too. We were both hurting so much and it wasn't the first time I said no, but every other time I changed my mind and fucked you anyway and really, _how_ were you to know that this time would be any different? And regardless, you didn't hurt me. Scared me – yes. But when you realised that, you stopped. I didn't have to fight you off because you stopped _yourself_. I forgave you as soon as I calmed down enough to understand that, but by the time I went to tell you, you were already gone.”

Voice thick with tears, Spike asked “Where did I go?”

“You went to Africa. Found a demon. Faced some trials. Won your soul back.”

“My soul?”

She moved one hand down to trail fingers through the curls at the back of his neck. The other stroked a thumb along his cheekbone. Buffy's eyes never left his, watching the comprehension of what he had done settle in his expression. She had expected horror or scathing disgust at his actions. She met instead fearful acceptance.

“You wanted to make sure you couldn't ever hurt me again. So, you sought your soul for me. And broken as I was, I didn't get it. It made you weak and I mocked you for it. You were suffering and more than a little crazy and I was so mean to you. You were the only person that never betrayed me that year. You had my back without question, but that didn't stop me being a bitch to you. Didn't stop me _hurting_ you.”

She paused for breath, closing her eyes and resting her forehead on his own. Before he could formulate a response, she spoke again in a broken whisper.

“You know, I realised something. Right at the end, right when I understood that I loved you. I realised that you never _needed_ the soul. I was so obsessed with the idea that without a soul it was impossible to do good that I found a way to discredit every good deed you did over the three years that you had the chip, and even before that - when you helped with Acathla.

“I never stopped to consider that a chipped Angelus would have had no problem finding a way to have my family and friends tortured and killed. I never acknowledged how hard you worked, despite my ridicule and violent contempt, to adjust to being a white hat. I only barely acknowledged that you resisted torture from a hell god to keep my sister safe.

“The soul brought you _nothing_ but guilt and torment. It took away your pride and self confidence and it made you avoid violence. And despite the _amazing_ fact that you _and your demon_ chose to seek and fight for your soul back, nobody trusted you any more than they do now. Hell, _Giles_ conspired to get you dusted. 

“What I'm trying to say is that I loved you and trusted you with a soul, but I love you and trust you just as much now. Without one. Don't go soul-searching for _me_. You don't need one... unless you decide that is what _you_ want. For yourself. It is _your_ choice and I won't be telling _anyone_ that some future version of you had a soul. I don't want you to _ever_ feel like it is expected of you. I love you as you **are**. Demon and all.”

The look of awestruck reverence was back. Spike gazed at her with utter devotion, unaware and uncaring of the tears staining his cheeks. When he heard about the soul, he was terrified. Of course he would get one, if that was what his Slayer wanted of him. Of course there was a catch if he wanted this new, loving girl to stay in his arms.

But she kept talking. Her words left him utterly gobsmacked and he could barely believe his ears. His Buffy, the woman he loved,  _didn't_ want him to get a soul! She loved him. Loved his demon. Just as he was.

They sat together in the dark car, the semi-regular flashes of passing headlights the only intrusion into their silence. Long minutes passed until, very reluctantly, Buffy drew back.

Her disinclination to move was evident in her grudging “Giles will be waiting.”

She slid back into the passenger seat, fastening her seatbelt as Spike turned the key in the ignition. Her left hand squeezed his knee, a gesture of comfort and reassurance.

They drove in silence for a while, as Spike processed his thoughts and feelings enough to hold a conversation. Then they spoke a bit more about the soul, about their relationship that year and about those events that she hadn't wanted Dawn to learn of.

Buffy told him everything. She raged about Wood's plot to kill him and Giles' betrayal. She cried as she described her friends and sister turning on her and kicking her out of the house. She made sure to emphasise how the two nights spent in his arms were the best since her resurrection. And she let him know without a doubt the pain and frustration she had felt when he didn't believe her declaration of love. Then she apologised for being an idiot who couldn't understand her own feelings until it was too late.

By the time they parked at LAX there was still much to say, but everything important had been covered. Before leaving the car, Buffy turned in her seat and took Spike's hands in her own.

“Can you forgive me, Spike? I hurt you so bad -”

Spike's lips cut off her apology. The kiss was lingering but chaste.

“Buffy, my love, there is nothing to forgive. As you said, it hasn't happened and never will. Even then, it wasn't your fault. You were broken. I loved you then regardless and I love you now.”

He leaned forward to land a peck on her forehead. “Now, best be off to find your Watcher.”

It was an emotionally exhausted pair that made their way into the arrivals lounge.

***

They had not waited long before Giles appeared. He looked awful – exhaustion mixed with worry and apprehension that faded into wonder as his eyes fell on Buffy.

She had smiled up at him as he wrapped her in a fierce embrace and whispered “I didn't think you would believe it if I wasn't here to meet you.”

The greetings exchanged between the two Brits were stiffly cordial.

Once in the car, Buffy had briefly told her Watcher that she was glad he had returned, before curling up and falling asleep with one hand resting on Spike's thigh. A reassurance that he was there, whole and safe and hers.

It had been left up to the vampire to answer the other man's questions as best as he could.

***

The journey back to 1630 Revello Drive was far more uncomfortable than the ride out to LA had been. And considering the topics of discussion covered between vampire and Slayer, that was saying something.

Giles was obviously disinclined to enter into conversation with the vampire, yet once Buffy had fallen asleep there was no other way to find out all the details that he was so desperate to know.

In the end, Spike had reluctantly told the Watcher what little he knew of Willow's spell; that they suspected magic had been used to 'convince' Tara and Anya to help; how the ritual had been disrupted and the way that the Powers (presumably) had used that interruption of the magics to bring back a Buffy who had died on the Hellmouth a year and a half from now.

He had then given a brief outline of the coming months as the Slayer had recounted them over dinner, sharing only the details that Dawn and Tara had been privy to. When Giles had pressed him for more information, Spike grumpily insisted that he was not a primary source and the Watcher would do well to get a bloody grip and wait for Buffy to wake up.

Needless to say, Giles had been unimpressed and the rest of the trip was spent in uncomfortable silence.

***

The jeep rolled to a stop and the sudden quiet of the engine was enough to startle Buffy awake. She gifted Spike a sleepy smile before giving his thigh a parting squeeze and stretching like a cat.

Giles had refused to sleep in the car (presumably not trusting the vampire behind the wheel) but he, too, stretched some life back into his limbs before making to exit the vehicle.

Spike was quick to get out, opening the passenger door for Buffy before it had occurred to her to do so and offering his arm in the fashion of the Victorian gentleman he pretended he had never been. She quirked an eyebrow, but allowed him his moment of chivalry.

Giles grumbled as he wrestled his case out of the trunk and followed the couple into the house.

When they entered the front room, they found that Dawn had obviously been worried that they would forget the promise to wake her on their return. She was sound asleep on the sofa.

Buffy watched with a gentle smile as Spike made his way over to wake the stubborn teenager. He was adorably gentle with her sister, giving her shoulder the slightest shake as he called softly to her.

“We're back, Bit. 'f you want to play hostess you need to get up now.”

Dawn rolled over and snuggled deeper under the blanket.

“C'mon Nibblet. 's your last chance. Wake up now or I'll put you up in your bed.”

That obviously did the trick as the teen bolted upright, though she looked more asleep than not as she mumbled “'m up, 'm up” and rubbed her eyes.

In the fashion of teenagers, Dawn seemed to suddenly remember the reason for her far-too-early call and snapped completely awake.

“Giles!” she squealed, running forward to greet the man with a hug. She stopped just in front of him and crossed her arms over her chest, abruptly remembering that she was still upset with him for leaving.

The Englishman took it in his stride, not acknowledging the severed greeting, responding with a quiet “hello, Dawn.”

Remembering her role as hostess, she asked the room at large “shall I put the kettle on and make some tea?”

As she made to bounce off into the kitchen, Giles stayed her with a hand on her arm.

“Thank you, Dawn, but I think that right now I am much more in need of sleep.”

Spike saw the crestfallen expression on the teen's face and was of half a mind to insist the Watcher join them for a cuppa before turning in. Then his eyes drifted to the exhausted Slayer and he changed his mind.

“C'mon, Bit. It's nearly 4 in the bloody morning. Time for all the good little nibblets to be tucked up in their beds. Tea can wait. Now be a good hostess and show the Watcher where he's sleeping.”

Dawn brightened at the reminder that serving tea was not her only duty as hostess.

“I made up my bed for you, Giles. I figured you were too old for sleeping on the sofa.”

The latter was said with a cheeky smile and was pointedly ignored by the man in question.

“Are you sure, Dawn? I don't want to turn you out of your own room.”

She shrugged. “I'm staying in with Tara at the moment. She's struggling with what Willow did and me being near seems to help.”

Giles nodded stiffly at this. “Then thank you, Dawn.”

She headed upstairs then, dutifully showing Giles into her room (and assuring him that Tara had helped her change the sheets before she went to bed) before heading across the hall to the master bedroom.

Neither noticed Buffy following up the stairs behind them, leading her vampire by the hand.


	5. What to do About Willow

Buffy drifted slowly back to consciousness. Her dreams had been the uncomfortable sort that fed on nervous energy and faded immediately upon awakening. Not quite nightmares, but far from sunshine and roses. They always left her feeling twitchy and not fully rested.

Waking was much more pleasant. In fact, it took her a moment to realise that it wasn't a dream. She was curled up on her bed and safely ensconced in the strong embrace of her vampire. It was the most perfect feeling she could ever remember experiencing.

Just like the morning before his breath tickled the back of her neck as he nuzzled against her, seeking the reassurance of her scent even in sleep. Even though she still found the whole smelling thing rather gross, it wasn't something she would complain about. She understood the need for constant reaffirmation of her presence - she was still haunted by the image of him burning up on the Hellmouth, and found herself unable to resist touching him continually.

She cracked open her eyes to check the time. A little after ten. It was probably time to think about getting up, but she was so comfortable...

Spike snuggled closer and let out a happy sigh of contentment. Buffy was fairly certain that this meant he was awake, but decided that she was happy to feign sleep together a little longer. This lasted only a few minutes until a faint, kittenish purring sound filled her ears and she was unable to suppress a giggle.

Spike made a noise of discontent before grumbling at the interruption to his sleep.

“What's so funny, kitten?”

The use of that particular pet name set her off into all-out laughter. She was _so_ not the kitten in the room! 

“Buffy, love, you gonna let me in on the joke?”

Eventually she managed to get some control over herself, though her shoulders continued to shudder with suppressed mirth.

“You were purring again, and then- then you called _me_ kitten!” 

She lost it on the last word, squealing it out through uncontrollable giggles and allowing herself to release the stored-up tension from a night of dreading the tense discussions that morning would bring.

Spike muttered a defiant “I  _don't_ purr! Big Bad, here!” which received only an increase in the volume of her laughter in response.

After a few minutes, Buffy managed to regain control and snuggled back into Spike's soothing embrace. Her head on his firm chest, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment of calm before what promised to be a very stressful day.

Once again, it was the smell of fresh coffee and frying food that finally enticed the Slayer out of bed. This time, at least, she would join the rest of the household in a late brunch rather than sleeping through until dinner.

***

Tara was frying pancakes, as had become custom in the Summers household since the witch had moved in. Dawn was groggily moving about the kitchen, gathering crockery and a variety of toppings which she set haphazardly in the centre of the breakfast bar.

Giles wandered into the room looking rather bleary eyed and made a beeline for the kettle. He was in desperate need of a cup of tea. Dawn seemed to understand what he was after and presented him with a tin of loose leaves and a teapot in the shape of a skull.

The watcher looked from the obviously-high-quality tea to the rather disturbing pot as if his mind couldn't put one together with the other.

“I got fed up of Spike moaning about how Americans can't make proper tea.” Dawn explained with a shrug, as if it made perfect sense.

Which it did. She hadn't been able to find her mother's teapot – she guessed it was in a box somewhere in the basement with the rest of the fancy china – and had therefore planned to buy a cheap teapot at the same time as the fancy tea leaves. Then she had seen the skull one in a shop window and couldn't resist. It was just so _Spike_.

Giles reluctantly warmed the pot, then added a couple of spoons of tea with a grimace of distaste.

“See you found my tea, Watcher.”

Giles looked up from his task, turning to face the vampire that had entered the kitchen alongside the Slayer.

“I hope you don't mind?” his good manners had him asking.

“Nah, go ahead. 'Least I know you'll 'preciate it.”

“Thank you.”

Buffy couldn't help but smile at the awkward exchange between the two Brits. She waited a moment longer to be sure that there wouldn't be any further bouts of politeness before giving her morning greetings.

“Morning all. Sorry for falling asleep on you last night, Giles. I hope Spike managed to catch you up.”

Giles' eyes flicked briefly towards the vampire with a disdainful look, before giving his Slayer a strained smile.

“He covered the bare bones, yes.”

Buffy turned to Spike and tried to ignore the eye-roll when he answered her unspoken question.

“Told him everything you covered at dinner las' night.”

Buffy nodded, confirming what she had expected.

“Good. Look, I know you've got like a bajillion questions, but can we hold off 'till after breakfast?”

Giles acquiesced with a nod.

Tara jumped on the lull in conversation to ask “who wants bacon?” from her position by the stove.

Buffy and Dawn raised enthusiastic hands. Giles huffed.

“I don't understand this American obsession with putting meat and syrup together on pancakes. Why can't you have lemon and sugar like normal, civilized people?”

Dawn's eyes lit up at the suggestion and she headed over to the fruit bowl.

“I prefer blood, myself.”

Buffy rolled her eyes and gave a half-hearted, almost affectionate, “Don't be gross Spike.”

“I'm sure we have a lemon in here somewhere, Giles,” Dawn said as she rooted around under the more popular fruit, eventually producing an only-slightly-shrivelled lemon with a grin.

The teenager looked thoughtfully at the fruit before turning to her best friend.

“Does lemon curdle blood like it does milk?”

“Now who's being gross, Dawnie? How about we all just eat nice, normal pancakes with bacon?”

Spike, however, wasn't as willing to drop the conversation.

“You think bacon's weird, Watcher, you should see what the Russians put on their pancakes! Caviar, mince and onion... they can't even get the sweet ones right. Whoever thought jam and sour cream would make a good pancake topping?”

Buffy turned towards him, reaching out to pat his arm and barely suppressing a grin.

“Alright there, Spike, I didn't know that pancake toppings was such a touchy topic for you.”

She stopped teasing the vampire to fix a firm glare on her sister, who was looking far too excited by all the pancake-themed culinary inspiration.

“Don't you go getting any ideas, Dawnie!”

***

After breakfast, during which Giles sighed but accepted bacon with his pancakes (and everyone tried valiantly to pretend that it was just strawberry sauce that Spike was dipping his into), the residents of the Summers household made their way to more comfortable seating and a thorough discussion the current situation.

Buffy was once more sandwiched between Spike and Dawn on the sofa, while Giles and Tara took the two armchairs. She ignored the disapproving look that her Watcher aimed at her when she took the vampire's right hand in her left. Before he could say anything, she cleared her throat.

“Right. At the moment, we have three immediate crises to focus on: Willow, the Nerds and my empty bank account.”

Giles leaned forward, his brow furrowed in concern.

“Is your financial situation really that dire?”

Buffy sighed and nodded.

“It was fairly bad before I died. Mom's insurance covered the medical bills and a few months' mortgage. I have no income, no child support for Dawn... I really don't know how bad things are at this moment because last time I couldn't face the paperwork for weeks – not until the basement flooded and I needed to find the money to fix it. I think I'm going to call Anya and have her help me go over everything. I had a huge stack of final reminders to deal with, so hopefully we can get on top of that early. I'm also going to need to look for a job...”

Tara looked at Buffy in confusion.

“F-final reminders? Willow said she had everything sorted.”

Buffy grimaced. “I think Willow's idea of sorting everything was to focus on getting me back to sort it for her. Either that, or she tried to magic the problem away... which brings us back to the problem that is Willow and her addiction to magic.”

Giles once more felt the need to question his Slayer's priorities.

“Are you _quite_ certain that she poses such a great threat as you have implied?”

Buffy looked down, examining the hand she held in her lap. Spike's thumb began drawing soothing circles at the base of her thumb.

“Worse, Giles.” Her voice cracked a little as she spoke.

“The resurrection called on some dark powers, much darker even that the soul restoration spell she did. Back then, it didn't affect her so much because she wasn't practising much magic. Now that she's grown into her abilities, that darkness has given her a taste for power. She's a powerful witch who has never even considered that there _are_ ethics with using magic. She dragged me out of heaven with a ritual sacrifice and I woke up _in my GRAVE_ , Giles. It broke me.”

The Watcher and the Witch had been growing increasingly pale as Buffy spoke. Giles' head fell into his hands as he reprimanded himself for his complete ignorance of how the young witch was learning her craft.

Tara simply felt sick that something which was such first nature to her that she hadn't even thought to discuss it had been entirely overlooked by her lover.

As Buffy mentioned waking in her grave, her shoulders began to shudder with suppressed emotion and she found herself tightly wound in a three-way hug. Her face was buried in Spike's shoulder and her right arm wrapped around his back and pulled him towards her with crushing force. Dawn seemed aware that being actively held by either superbeing at this point would be damaging to her health and had opted for guarding her sister's back, wrapping her arms as far as she could around the older couple.

Minutes passed and eventually everyone calmed enough to continue the conversation.

Buffy sniffed and accepted a Spike's handkerchief with a watery smile.

“Last time, we didn't notice that it was a problem at first. Only Tara seemed worried about how much magic she was using. It wasn't until Xander summoned Sweet – and didn't _that_ get swept under the rug!”

At the puzzled expressions from the rest of the group, she elaborated.

“He thought it would help his cold feet if everyone was singing and dancing, so he summoned a demon that turned real life into one big musical. People _died_. Anyway, it wasn't until Sweet made me sing that you all found out that I hadn't been in Hell. Willow decided that she could 'fix it' – if I didn't remember Heaven then I would bounce back and be my happy chirpy Slayer self again.

“Except this is Willow. Somehow, she managed to remove not only my memories of Heaven. She completely wiped the memories of every one of us – including herself! Spike didn't even remember he was a vampire. Hell, none of us even knew that vampires even existed! We all nearly died, and it is only by chance that the spell was broken.

“That was just the beginning. I won't go into too much detail because I don't want you judging her for things that she might never do, but needless to say bad things happened and we need to prevent them. She is proud – _arrogant_ – and has come to associate power with knowledge. She won't accept guidance from you or Tara, Giles, because she sees you as beneath her magically. We need someone old and powerful if we have a hope of her learning anything without her hitting rock bottom first. And we seriously don't want that to happen.”

Giles nodded gravely. If she was willing to mess around with people's memories then there was definite cause for concern.

“I will get in contact with the coven in Devon. Do you mind if I use your phone?”

Buffy answered with a tired smile. “Of course, Giles. And thank you.”

The Englishman stood slowly and made his way back into the kitchen.

Dawn had left her side while Buffy had been speaking to her Watcher and was once again curled up with Tara, giving the older girl as much comfort as she was able.

They remained like that, Buffy sitting in silence and clinging fiercely to Spike's hand while Dawn soothed Tara's tears, until Giles returned from the kitchen with a laden tea-tray.

The ridiculous skull teapot drew a reluctant smile from the Slayer.

Once they had all been plied with cups of hot, sweet tea Giles gave them the news.

“I have spoken to Ms. Harkness and she sends her regrets that there is nobody available to come here and help Willow in Sunnydale. However, if she were willing to go to them, they would happily take her in and retrain her.”

Buffy pondered this. Maybe Willow not being around for a little while would be of the good, but she didn't want her friend to think that Buffy was sending her away out of anger. Dawn interrupted her musings.

“How exactly are we going to make Willow go?”

That was a good point. Willow couldn't be forced to leave. She needed to make the decision herself – what could they possibly say that wouldn't make this seem like an intervention?

Buffy smirked. She'd got it.

“We appeal to her inner geek. How excited will she be when she hears that a great and powerful coven all the way in Devon have heard about her talent and would like to extend a personal invitation for her to train under them? Instead of Giles infuriating her and calling her a rank amateur, he can flatter her ego and emphasise how much she would be able to learn with such highly skilled teachers. Make it out to be like Wicca university – it's not even a lie, really. Apart from the lack of accredited courses and pretty certificate at the end.”

The tense atmosphere dissipated as they realised that this might just work. Then Dawn brought up another good point.

“Then we might want to talk to her before she gets good and grudgy after the whole kicking her out thing.”

Buffy grimaced. She really didn't feel up to dealing with Willow yet, but her sister was right. She finished her tea and put the mug back on the tray before standing up.

“I guess it's time for a Scooby meeting, then.”

She headed for the phone, intent of calling the Magic Box. When Anya answered and realised who was calling, it took a while to get the ex-demon to stop her litany of apologies. Eventually, she was able to assure the other girl that there were no hard feelings, and now that she had had the opportunity to calm down she was ready to have a proper Scooby gathering that afternoon and would she pass the message on to Xander and Willow.

Anya was happy to announce that Willow was currently in the store and Xander would be stopping by during his lunch break in an hour so they could hold the meeting then, so long as they weren't going to be loud and scare off her paying customers.

Buffy had ended the call with a small but genuine smile on her face and went to tell the others.


	6. Treats for Bad Behaviour

It seemed almost no time had passed before the group gathered at Revello Drive had needed to leave for the Magic Box. Buffy had reluctantly parted from Spike so that he could make the journey through the sewers and joined the other girls in her Mom's jeep so that Giles could drive them across town.

  
The bell above the door gave a cheerful jangle as the three girls piled into the shop. Giles had decided to wait ten minutes to allow them to make amends with Willow before she was distracted by his presence.

  
Willow seemed torn between anger and misery as she looked at the girl she had brought back standing beside the girl she loved. Tara had been part of the resurrection spell too, but she was allowed to stay! It wasn't fair. Buffy was Willow's best friend, why had she abandoned her for doing something helpful?!

  
She was ready to say something defensive and hurtful before they could shout at her again but was caught off guard by the Slayer's smile. While not overly enthusiastic, there was no malice behind it either.

  
This distraction was enough to give Buffy the first words.

  
“Hey, Willow. Look, I'm sorry for kicking you out the other night. I know you didn't mean to hurt me when you brought me back, but you did, and I was angry.”

  
She held up a hand to stop the other girl's interruption.

  
“Let me finish, please Will. I was angry because I didn't want to leave Heaven, but now that I have calmed down I understand that you did it out of love. I'm not quite sure that I'm ready to forgive you completely yet but I don't want to lose you either. You're my best friend and I want to be able to trust you again – can we work on that?”

  
Willow looked unsure. On the one hand, she wanted to shout and demand Buffy's thanks for rescuing her. On the other, she just wanted her friend back.

  
“Does this mean I can come back home?” she asked meekly.

  
Buffy shook her head sadly.

  
“Sorry, Will. Maybe when the nightmares have stopped – I just need a little more time.”

  
The redhead flinched at this and Buffy knew that she was getting through to her on some level. It hurt the slayer to have to bury her anger with the witch – it was too much like the first time she came back – but she knew that there would be no hope of the other girl volunteering for training if she started another fight now.

  
“I-” she began, but her reply was cut off by the shop bell once more cheerfully announcing a new arrival.

  
“Buffster!” Xander called, hands full of the obligatory pizza and doughnuts. He sidled around the three girls to put his precious cargo on the large table at the back of the store. As he turned around with the intention of hugging his recently-dead best friend, Spike came through the basement door.

  
“Spike! What are you doing here?” he shouted with revulsion.

  
The vampire shrugged, letting the hurtful tone slide off without affecting him.

  
“Was invited.” He responded with careful nonchalance.

  
“Buffy! You have to get rid of him! He's not welcome!”

  
The Slayer felt the beginnings of a familiar heaviness settling on her heart. Her friend's refusal to accept Spike hurt.  
“Xander, Spike stays.” She told him firmly.

  
The young man wasn't willing to accept that. He shouted the usual, incredulous response that she was so very tired of hearing.

  
“But he's an evil killer!”

  
“He was.” She replied calmly, ignoring the tension she could sense that her words induced in the man she loved.

  
“Now he is trying to be a good man. He is reformed. No longer evil. Just like Anya. Should we send her away for her evil past?”

  
Xander looked utterly bewildered at her words. He never liked to be reminded of his girlfriend's demonic history and seemed to be struggling with the idea of a reformed Spike – despite the help that the vampire had freely offered, even with Buffy gone.

  
Before he could go down the 'Anya is human' route, they were once more interrupted by the tinkle of the shop bell.

  
“Giles?!”

  
The synchronised response of Willow, Xander and Anya made the Englishman smile.

  
“Dawn called me yesterday and I caught the first flight over. I just had to see for myself.”

  
“Does this mean you are back? I'm not giving the store back!”

  
Giles chuckled at the worried ex-demon. “No, Anya, I'm quite happy to leave the shop in your very capable hands.”

  
He turned his attention to the red-headed witch who had started silently fuming when her conversation with Buffy was interrupted.

  
“Willow, I must say that I am very impressed. I confess that part of the urgency for my return when I found out was that I was concerned Buffy may have been brought back wrong. Such powerful magic from one so young is almost unprecedented, you see.”

  
Willow's scowl at the implication that her spell might not have been done correctly began to melt away as she preened over his last words. It looked like Buffy had the right idea, after all.

  
“Once I realised that Buffy was whole and healthy, I called a friend of mine – a very powerful witch from a coven in Devon – who was equally shocked at your achievement. When she heard that you had no formal training, she was astounded. She asked me to immediately offer you a personal invitation to train with them!”

  
The ginger witch was overcome with all the praise for her skill. Finally, someone was recognising her talent!

  
“They want me to go to England?”

  
“Exactly. They were most apologetic that none of their members were able to come and train you here. Those who are not busy with research work and jobs are simply too old to travel for extended periods. However, they were incredibly keen to have you as a student. Especially when I told them what a great academic you were.”

  
Willow's face dropped at the mention of academics.

  
“But I can't go – I have classes!”

  
“I'm sure something can be arranged to ensure that you don't fall behind in your college courses. This is an incredible opportunity, Willow – the coven is one of the most highly respected in the world. To have the opportunity to study with them...”

  
His voice trailed off wistfully and he could tell by the light in the girl's eyes that he had her hooked.

  
Buffy had been watching Anya and had managed to catch the ex-demon's eye when she had looked ready to explode at the praise that Giles was heaping on Willow, stopping her from saying anything that might mess up their plan.

  
Giles continued to talk about the coven with Willow. The young witch was so caught up in her pride and excitement that it never occurred to her that there might be an ulterior motive to this sudden offer.

  
***

  
While they talked, Buffy walked over to the counter and spoke quietly with Anya but made no attempt to hide their conversation. She had no intention of interrupting the discussion between her friend and Watcher, but at the same time wanted to make sure there could be no accusations of conspiracy against Willow (because her friend had become that paranoid in the height of her magic addiction and Buffy didn't want to take any chances considering the shaky ground she was on with the redhead after their post-resurrection disagreement).

  
“I'd like you to come by the house later, Anya. I've been trying to go through my Mom's financial records and I just can't make any sense of it, then I thought that since you are so good with money you might be able to help.”

  
Seeing Anya's face light up made Buffy feel terrible for all the times they had dismissed the eccentric girl as weird or unimportant. She was obviously delighted to be included when there wasn't a slaying emergency. They really had treated her unfairly.

“Of course, Buffy. I love money! I can help you find some profitable investments, too, and you can learn the dance of capitalist superiority.”

  
***

  
The group (sans Spike, who seemed satisfied to stay lurking near the counter so long as the Slayer remained in his line of sight) soon settled around the table to eat their pizza. The conversation was dominated by Willow and Giles' discussion of the coven in Devon and what she should expect from it. In an effort to excite her into leaving as soon as possible, Giles told her all about the traditional Sabbat ritual that would be performed on Halloween night and implied that she might be able to watch if she was there at the time.

  
Willow had been a little indignant at being told that she would only be allowed to watch – she was a powerful witch! Surely, she would be a benefit to the ritual! She calmed a little when Giles explained that not being invited to join in would not be a reflection on her abilities, simply that such a ritual needs implicit trust between all coven members and even if she left right this second, there were less than two weeks until Halloween and that was not enough time to gain the understanding of the coven witches that she would need in order to participate in the Sabbat rites.

  
Giles had been worried that he was laying it on a bit thick, but by the time the group had eaten their lunch and Xander was heading off back to work and Willow was mentally packing her bags and booking flights. She didn't even notice the quiet good-byes from her girlfriend as the other witch left for her afternoon classes.

  
***

  
A little while later, Buffy had left the witch and the Watcher to talk. On her way out, she had reminded Anya that she would be expecting the other girl after work and quietly mentioned to Spike that she would see him at home.

  
The expression on the vampire's face when he registered the implication that she was calling Revello Drive his home made her curse their agreed plan of keeping their new friendly association as low key as possible until Willow was in England. Big smoochies would not be easily explained away, and there was no way she was risking Willow's magical 'for her own good' intervention in her love life.

  
So she had been forced to settle with a brief fingertip kiss as she brushed her hand past his when she followed Dawn out of the shop.

  
The two Summers girls had finally been given a chance for some sisterly bonding time as they made their leisurely way through the town. The early afternoon sun was bright and warm enough that Buffy decided to indulge in an ice-creamy treat to share with her sister. Money may be tight now, but that was nothing compared to feeding a house full of ravenous potentials on a part-time wage. It had been far too long since she had been able to afford non-essential foodstuffs and even those had been in short supply at the end. After everything she had been through, she deserved a little double chocolate fudge chunk delight.

  
Dawn chattered happily as they walked. She caught her sister up on all the middle school gossip, dripped chocolate sauce down her top and generally basked in her no-longer-dead sister's presence.

  
This time, Buffy made the effort to listen and be the sister that she wished she could have been the first time she came back.

  
***

  
Giles stayed with Willow until early evening, waiting for Anya to close the shop so that he could give her a lift to the Summers house. The pair of them walked in to a scene of comfortable domesticity – Buffy was shuffling piles of paperwork at one end of the dining table while Dawn did her homework at the other, Tara pottered quietly around the kitchen as she made a start on the dinner preparations and Spike was lounging on the couch with a bottle of beer and a recording of Passions.

  
The ex-demon immediately made her way over to Buffy and began lecturing on the correct way to organize her papers before they could start making sense of the mess that Willow had left for them. Giles looked uncomfortably between the witch in the kitchen and the vampire on the sofa before deciding to head up to 'his' room and catch up on some sleep before dinner. After all, he had spent the day travelling and his body still believed it was nearly two in the morning.

  
***

  
It took most of the next two hours for Anya to conclude that Buffy's finances were a mess. She made a note of all the bills that needed to be paid, categorized from 'super urgent' down to 'can wait a while' and left Buffy with a to-do list for the next day and a promise to return on Sunday afternoon for a more detailed discussion of her options.

  
Buffy had thanked the quirky girl with a sincere smile and almost-not-awkward hug. Spike offered to give her a lift home and the ex-demon was already half-way down the road before the Slayer remembered that she had wanted to discuss the resurrection spell with Anya that evening.

  
She was left feeling rather guilty that the other girl's determination to rush home might have been because Buffy had failed to clear the air.

  
***

  
Giles was startled out of his half-doze by the roar of the Desoto's engines. Finally, that awful vampire was gone! He didn't know what possessed the creature to turn up and make himself comfortable in the Slayer's home during the day.

  
No, he did. He hadn't forgotten the freakish infatuation that the demon had with Buffy. He was taking advantage of the fragile state of his newly-resurrected Slayer, trying to worm his way into her affections. And if the disturbing way that the pair of them had turned up together for breakfast that morning was any indication, the bastard was succeeding. Something needed to be done.


	7. Watcherly Concern

 

As the Desoto started away down Revello Drive, Spike looked over at the tense girl sat in the passenger seat. Something about the way she had been so determined to rush out of the house when Tara announced that dinner would soon be ready didn't sit right.

“So, Demon Girl, in a rush to get back to the Whelp tonight?”

Anya made no attempt to hide her less than enthusiastic response.

“Not really, no. He insists that Willow stay with us until Buffy lets her back home and that would have been uncomfortable _before_ I realised that she abused her powers to make me go along with the resurrection.”

Spike grimaced. He remembered the last time the two girls had spent more than a few minutes in close proximity outside of a Scooby meeting. There was a troll.

“So why not stay for dinner? Tara made plenty.”

Anya shrugged, looking like she really would have liked to do just that.

“I didn't want to make Buffy uncomfortable. I know that she is making a sensible use of her resources by asking me to help with her finances, but we didn't spend time together socially before I helped rip her from Heaven, so I doubt she would want me around any more than necessary now.”

Spike was confused. He had thought more than half of the reason that the ex-demon had been invited over that evening was to discuss resurrection and the whole Willow situation with her.

“Did she not talk to you about that?”

“I didn't really let her.” Anya said, with her usual unselfconscious bluntness.

“I was afraid she would say something that would make me cry and that wouldn't have made me a very a professional financial advisor.”

Spike did his best to hide his exasperation with sympathetic understanding. Why did these bloody bints spend so much time miserable because they avoid having the conversations that would prevent the misunderstandings that caused the upset in the first place? He thought that Anyanka was above that nonsense, with her upfront painful honesty.

“Anya, she doesn't blame you. She knows that Red was in charge and was pretty sure that Tara wasn't the only one _encouraged_ to help in something they didn't believe in.”

“Really? I was worried that she would hate us all, but then I realised that Tara is still living with her and then she forgave Willow earlier -”

Anya looked like she couldn't quite believe him, despite the seriousness his use of her actual name implied. Spike didn't really blame her, given the fact that the group didn't treat her much better than they did him. Well, not counting the physical violence anyway. When he realised _what_ she was saying, though, he couldn't help his shouted interruption.

“What? Slayer din't forgive 'er!” He paused to take a breath, consciously lowering his voice in an attempt to wipe the alarm from the girl's wide eyes. The menacing growl that tainted his calmer tone didn't help much though.

“She knows Red's a magic junkie and has set her up for rehab – that's what the super-special scholarship to study with that coven is all about. We figured the safest way to get Red to sign up for help was to make the arrogant bint think she's getting a prize for using dangerous magic.

“This is important, Anyanka. Red can't know that we set her up. I know the last thing you want right now is to spend time with her, but if Rupes did his job right she should be gone inside a week. Be best all round if you can keep your opinions to yourself until she's gone.”

Anya sighed and nodded. That Spike used her full, demon name was a show of just how much he needed her help. Demon to demon (well, ex-demon).

“I suppose that does make sense. A powerful coven will be able to keep Willow under control and hopefully teach her some magical ethics. Though I'd rather her powers were bound – are you sure I can't call a friend of mine to grant Buffy a wish?”

Spike guffawed, breaking the awkward tension that had built up in the car.

“As much as I might agree with you there, Slayer says rehab is the way to go so we'll try that first. Save the wish for if it doesn't work, yeh?”

Anya shrugged, not really expecting her offer to be accepted.

“I suppose. Well, this is my stop. Thank you for driving me home, Spike. And for letting me know what is going on. It's nice to be included for once.”

Spike stopped her before she could get out of the car.

“No problem, Demon Girl. You said you'd be over Sunday, right? We'll get you caught up proper then. Maybe you can stay for dinner?”

She gave a somewhat watery smile and replied with a quiet “That would be nice.”

***

Buffy was just putting the last of her paperwork away when Giles made his way downstairs. Dawn threw him a look of relief, thrust her books back into her school bag and darted past him, making her way swiftly up to her room. He watched as Buffy watched her sister go with a fond smile on her face.

“So, Buffy, did you enjoy your evening with Anya?” he asked, voice laced with not a little irony. Nobody enjoyed talking finances quite like the ex-demon.

“It was good,” she replied. “We seem to have gotten a handle on the worst of it at least. Was your mission a success?”

Giles sighed heavily and leaned back into the door frame, hands making their way into the pockets of his brown corduroy trousers.

“Indeed, it was. Willow has accepted her invitation to study with the coven. In fact, she took me as a representative of the 'school' to meet her parents. Her mother seemed quite pleased with the fact that she, and I quote, has finally decided to live up to her abilities. She was most impressed by the scholarship to an elite college in England and insisted that her daughter not waste a moment more of the semester in Sunnydale.

“As such, I have purchased a ticket to accompany Willow back to England on Saturday. I thought it would be prudent to travel with her and get her settled in with the coven, if for no other reason than to ensure that she gets there.”

Buffy frowned a little, clearly not pleased with the fact that Giles would be leaving so soon. She did her best not to pout as she replied.

“That makes sense, I guess. Will you be coming back after?”

She couldn't help the slightly vulnerable tone of her question. Even though this wasn't the first time that she had been left by her watcher, this _was_ the first time that he had left her. She really didn't want the future repeating on her.

“I should expect so. Unless my back-from-the-future Slayer no longer needs a Watcher.”

He spoke with a forced joviality that sent a shiver of dread down Buffy's spine. He was going to leave her again. Maybe he would come back this time, but deep down she knew that he had already decided that he wasn't needed. He wouldn't stay.

Giles seemed oblivious to the dread pooling in Buffy's stomach as he continued to speak about how Dawn would be glad to get her room back. Eventually it became clear that the Slayer wasn't really listening, and he talked himself into an uncomfortable silence.

The moment dragged on as he searched for the right words.

“There _is_ something else that I wanted to talk to you about. I am rather... concerned... that Spike is spending so much time here. I worry that his unhealthy obsession with you has, if anything, grown stronger and he is taking advantage of your vulnerable state to worm his way into your affections.”

He held up a hand to forestall her reaction, determined to get everything said before she could distract him.

“I really think that you should lay some clear boundaries for him. It worries me how comfortable he makes himself in your home. He should be spending his days in his crypt and his nights off doing whatever dastardly mischief that chip allows him to get into, not crowding you and being a bad influence on Dawn. Really, Buffy, there is no need for him to be anywhere near you except as backup muscle. You _know_ this.”

Buffy folded her arms over her chest and drew herself up. Her posture would have made any of her allies in the battle with the First aware that the girl in front of them was now very much General Buffy. This was _not_ a topic that was up for discussion.

“What I know, Giles, is that Spike became my most important ally over the next two years. He has my back. I trust him more than any of the Scoobies right now, and _not_ _just_ because he wasn't involved in the whole 'let's pull Buffy out of Heaven' stunt.

“I don't care that you don't like him. I trust him. I _need_ him. This is not a matter up for debate. I've had two years of hell, made so much worse by trying to live up to the fucking pedestal that you and the others have me on. I'm not going to do that again. This time, I'm doing what I want – what I _need_ – and if you don't like it then you know where the door is.” 

Giles was looking at his Slayer as if she were a complete stranger. He could barely recognise this hard woman that had been moulded from the sweet teenager he had first met in the high school library. Before he could even think about formulating a reply, their conversation was ended by the roar of the Desoto's engines pulling back into the drive.

***

Dinner was an awkward affair. If Tara or Dawn had heard any of Buffy's confrontation with her Watcher, then neither mentioned it. Nor did anyone comment on the way that Giles was studiously ignoring the presence of the vampire sitting beside his Slayer.

As soon as the plates were cleared Giles excused himself and disappeared back upstairs, obviously unwilling to risk provoking an argument with Buffy so soon after she had put her foot down over Spike's presence in the house.

Dawn and Tara had followed soon after, despite the teen's insistent protest that she should be allowed one more day off from school “to process the newly not-dead status of her favourite sister”.

Buffy hadn't been moved. She still remembered the nightmares that had haunted her after that horrendous visit from the social worker and was determined to be a more responsible guardian this time, and _that_ meant no skipping school.

Dawn had pouted for a few minutes, but actually seemed willing to respect her sister's decision. She asked a few questions about magic as she watched Tara set the charms over the front and back doors again (not that they really expected trouble from Willow now, but the girls had unanimously agreed that they would feel safer with them in place until the red haired witch had left Sunnydale) and continued to chatter on about different types of spells as they made their way up to bed.

This had left Buffy and Spike in pretty much the same position as they had been what seemed like ages ago, but was in fact only the night before last. While the quiet noise of bedtime preparations faded to silence, they sat hand in hand on the sofa together.

Eventually, Buffy murmered a question and - with a quirked eyebrow - Spike confirmed that the three humans upstairs all had the slow, steady heartbeats of the deeply asleep.

He was utterly bewildered when this confirmation of relative privacy led to the Slayer slumping against his chest, sobbing. He reflexively brought his arms around her.

“Buffy? Pet? What's wrong? What happened?”

She couldn't reply, just shook her head and burrowed further into his shoulder. Her arms found their way around his sides and she clung to him with her full strength. Understanding that she wasn't ready to speak, Spike drew her closer and held on while she cried.

It didn't take long for the Slayer's tears to subside. Once the initial outburst was over, she sniffled a few times and pulled back just enough to make eye contact.

“I got you all wet. Sorry.”

“'m more worried 'bout what started the flood than a wet shirt, luv.”

Buffy looked down, visibly gathering herself together, and spoke in a small voice.

“He's leaving me again. Whatever I do, however much I change, I'm going to lose him.”

Spike was confused. The only 'him' that had ever evoked such emotion in the Slayer was his poofter of a grandsire and from the complete lack of any mention of that wanker in the last two days, Spike could be pretty confident that the other vampire was (for once) not responsible for the waterworks.

It didn't take long to put the pieces together and make an educated guess that the Watcher was at fault.

He couldn't help the growl in his voice when he asked, “Rupert's leaving?”

“He is, but that's not really the problem. He's going back to England to make sure Willow gets safely to the coven.”

“Then what is the problem? I thought you were upset at him leaving?”

“I am. I mean, not the going-to-England-Saturday bit, because it's necessary. I get it. He will probably even come back in a week or two.

“The problem is that he has the exact same 'My Slayer doesn't need me any more' attitude that he had last time, after I came back and I needed him _so much_ but he thought I should be a grown-up and stand on my own feet and he didn't care that I had just been ripped out of Heaven and I was so broken that I could barely function. And now he's doing the same thing.

“And I know that it's not the same, because I really don't need him in the same way this time. Because I have you. But it still hurts because I don't just need him as a Watcher. He's like my father and he's going to leave me again, just like every other man I love.”

Spike couldn't hold himself back at that.

“Hey!”

Buffy glared up at him, unrepentant.

“You _died_ on me, mister! First you tried to tell me that I didn't love you and send me away and then you fucking _died!_ You don't have a leg to stand on.”

Spike was indignant. There was no way she was winning that argument.

“Of course, I tried to send you away! _Anything_ to keep you safe. Not like it worked, anyhow – if I'm remembering the story correctly, you died right along with me.”

The argumentative fire in her eyes dimmed and she lifted her hand to cup his cheek, speaking softly now.

“I know. I don't know how I came back, but I am so thankful that I did. That I've got this chance. To love you like you deserve.”

Their gazes locked. A peaceful, comfortable kind of connection that did absolutely nothing to hide the love each felt for the other. Buffy held his eyes with her own for interminable moments until resolve hardened her face.

“I need you to promise, Spike. I need to know that you will never leave me.”

Spike swallowed. His own hands made their way to frame her face, his eyes unashamedly filling with tears. His words coming out in a hoarse whisper as they forced their way past the lump in his throat.

“My love, I would promise that I will stay by your side forever if I knew that I could keep it. The best I can offer is this – I promise that leaving you will never be _my_ choice. There are only two ways you are getting rid of me – if I dust or if you ask.”

Buffy didn't have words to describe the feelings welling up in her chest. Tears once more flowed freely down her face, but these were not sourced in pain. They were cleansing, cathartic.

A tiny smile graced her lips, completely satisfied with his words.

“Well I guess you're stuck with me then, because I'm not gonna let you dust, and I'll _never_ ask.”


	8. Demonic Cost Cutting

 

Buffy remained stubbornly silent after that declaration. She didn't want to talk about the possibility of losing her vampire any more. Instead, she curled up in his lap and rested her head over his unbeating heart.

They stayed that way for a while, both happy to simply be with the other. Eventually, Spike asked a quiet question.

“So, you gonna tell me what makes you so sure ol' Rupes is abandoning you?”

Buffy sighed. She really didn't want to, but she needed to get it off her chest before she let the resentment build and said something that would drive her Watcher even further away.

“He thinks you're taking advantage of me.”

Spike smirked down at her, tightening his arm around her shoulders in emphasis of his teasing tone.

“Am taking advantage, pet”

Buffy rolled her eyes and gently smacked his shoulder. Stupid vampire trying to make her smile.

“Spike, you're taking advantage of the fact that I love you and want you here. Because you love me, too. That isn't the same thing and you know it.”

Spike lowered his eyes, chastised.

“Right, luv. Sorry.”

Buffy smiled sadly, letting her head rest back against his chest. The hand that had smacked his shoulder trailed absently down over his bicep.

“I know. I just – the fact that he can't see... it was the same before. He couldn't see that I needed you. That you had my back in a way that no one else could. He conspired to kill you and I've been trying so hard not to blame him for that now. To give him a chance to do things differently. To not resent him. But all he can see is the evil vampire. It doesn't matter that you saved his life. More than once. You will never be good enough – soul or no soul – because he will never see you as a man.”

“Buffy, love, I -”

She moved her hand up, fingers covering his lips, unable or unwilling to hear what she was sure he was about to say. She spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“You are all the man I will ever need.”

She kissed him then, a soft whisper of her lips on his.

“I told him it was non-negotiable.”

Spike stared blankly. All thoughts had been swept away by the innocent intimacy of her kiss and he found himself completely at a loss for understanding her comment.

“What?”

The slayer rolled her eyes but explained anyway.

“He said that I should give you boundaries – send you back to your crypt and tell you you're not welcome unless as extra muscle. I told him that I need you and it was non-negotiable, and I think that when I said that I drove him away. For good.”

He could see the tears glazing her eyes, smell her sadness and pain at the perceived loss. Drawing her closer, he spoke in a soothing tone.

“Oh, Buffy.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her hair. “This isn't like before. Don't give up hope yet. P'raps he just needs time to get used to the idea.”

She snuggled into him, eyes drifting shut.

“You always know just what to say,” she sighed into his shirt.

He let her relax into him for a few minutes, mulling over the Watcher's words as she drifted towards slumber. When he spoke, it was hesitant. He really wasn't looking for a fight.

“Maybe he's a little right. Maybe I should leave – go back t' my crypt and give you room to breathe.”

Buffy pushed up from his chest so quickly he could barely believe she had just moments before been almost asleep.

“Don't you dare... unless – do you want to? Am I being too needy? Is it just me being selfish that's keeping you here?”

Her initial defiant growl was quickly replaced by stuttering uncertainty and the overwhelming fear that she was lapsing into her old, controlling manner with Spike.

The vampire shook his head in disbelief.

“Silly bint. You're here. Alive. And you want me.” He looked at her with undisguised adoration. “Having you in my arms... believe me, there is nowhere I'd rather be.”

***

The next morning, Buffy's alarm sounded at 7:30. The exhausted slayer groaned, reaching out to silence the torture device. Knowing that if she didn't move right away then she would sleep the morning away, she reluctantly peeled the vampire's arm from around her waist so that she could sit up in the bed.

She really wasn't ready to be up. They had stayed up talking into the early hours of the morning. Once Spike had allayed her fears about losing her Watcher, they had spent a while just chatting. She realised how little she had taken the opportunity to get to know the man she loved, never seeking more than the few glimpses of himself that he allowed her to see.

She had never realised how good conversation with Spike could be. They slipped seamlessly from light teasing to serious discussion. He had mocked her taste in music, then she had let him know how very not ok she was with Willow, and how much she hated pretending that everything was fine so that they could get her safely to the coven in England. There was no topic off limits and it wasn't until she drifted off during a story Spike was telling her about escaping Nazis that he had insisted they go to bed.

She was regretting it now. Not the time spent together, but the late night. As she turned and swung her legs onto the floor, the arm snaked back over her hips and held fast with a vice-like grip.

“'s too early. Come back to bed, luv.”

Oh, how she wanted to. How could she resist the sleepy possessiveness of her vampire?

With painful reluctance she pried his arm off once more and stood before he could try again. She smoothed her fingers over his frowning brow and whispered her apology.

“Sorry, Spike. I've got to get Dawn off to school. I want to be a good sister-mom to her this time.”

He grumbled something indistinct that she took to be understanding. Buffy leaned down, unable to resist fingering his sleep-mussed curls and kissing the pout from his lips. Then she quickly turned away from the gorgeous demon before he could lure her back to bed.

***

She found Giles sitting up at the kitchen island and drinking tea. He indicated a steaming cup of coffee in the place opposite him and she smiled in thanks. A slightly cynical part of her brain wondered whether this was supposed to be a peace offering.

Dawn tromped down the stairs shortly after her sister. She graciously accepted the offering of toast and juice that the Slayer had prepared for her before trying one last time to convince Buffy that she should be allowed just one more day off school.

Unfortunately for Dawn, the Slayer was not moved.

It wasn't long before Tara joined them, and they chatted companionably over breakfast while Buffy made her sister's lunch.  
Giles had volunteered to take Dawn to school, and Tara gratefully accepted his offer of a lift to campus. As usual, the relaxed breakfast atmosphere suddenly broke when the two girls realised that they had to leave in ten minutes.

While Dawn and Tara scurried upstairs to collect bags and finish getting ready, Giles smiled at his Slayer.

“I'm going to the Magic Box this morning to meet with Willow. I believe she was planning to come here after lunch to pack up everything she thinks she will need in England. Will you be ok with that?”

Buffy's inner defensiveness towards Giles, that had sprung back up full-force after their confrontation the night before, melted somewhat at the gentle question. Maybe Spike was right, and he would come around in time.

She smiled.

“I'm ok, Giles. I mean – I don't feel safe with Willow right now, but so long as she is focused on packing for England I should be ok. You'll be here, won't you?”

She couldn't keep the slightly needy tone from her question, but her Watcher just smiled and gave a nod of understanding.

“I'll be here the whole time.”

She accepted his hand on her shoulder, enjoying the rare physical affection from the usually reserved man. Then the girls came downstairs and she waved him over to them and out the door.

She watched the car drive off before heading back upstairs. She set her alarm for eleven thirty (not wanting to be caught napping if Giles and Willow headed over early) before climbing back into bed. She was awake only long enough to relish in being caught once more by that sneaky vampire arm.

***

The second time her alarm went off, she felt much more alive and ready to face the day. Without the fear of dropping straight off back to dreamland, Buffy didn't feel the need to jump straight out of bed. Instead she took a few minutes to luxuriate in the sensation of waking up in the arms of the man she loved.

Unfortunately, her nerves over Willow's imminent arrival didn't allow her much time to relax. A mass of insects began writhing in her belly and she couldn't shake off the feeling of impending dread. She was glad that Willow's mom had insisted that her daughter leave so soon, because Buffy didn't know how long she could smile at the arrogant witch and go on pretending that, despite the distinct lack of even an insincere apology, all would soon be forgiven.

Spike must have sensed the nervous tension in her body, because he was immediately wide awake and asking what was wrong.  
Buffy grimaced, knowing that her peaceful snuggles were over.

“Willow is coming over soon. She needs to get her things so she can pack for England. Giles is gonna be here, too, but I can't help feeling that something bad is going to happen. I'm making serious changes here, sending her away for help before everything that happened to make her choose to leave last time. I can't help but worry that something will go wrong.”

Spike squeezed her tightly, as if hoping to physically imbue her with the strength she needed to face her friend.

“You got every right to be nervous, luv. Red's outta control and unpredictable. Nonetheless, I expect she'll be too excited 'bout England to worry much about fixin' you so long as you don't give her anything obvious to fix.”

Buffy managed a small smile. Once again, Spike managed to say exactly what she needed to hear. She squeezed back her gratitude, before something occurred to her and she smirked down at him, teasing.

“I guess a vampire in my bed would be one of those obvious things, huh?”

Spike groaned. It might be nearly lunch time but he was a vampire, damn it! Tiptoeing around a temperamental witch was not a good enough reason to be up in the middle of the day! Unfortunately, he agreed with the Slayer. It was too risky for him to be sleeping in her bed when Willow was here.

Grumbling, he let Buffy pull him to his feet. While she made the bed, he gathered up the few odds and ends that belonged to him and had somehow made their home amongst her possessions. He packed everything into the duffel he had brought back from his crypt, having stopped by after the meeting in the Magic Box the day before to pick up some clean clothes.

Once he was safely down the hall, ducking into the bathroom for a quick shower and change of clothes, Buffy let up the blind and opened the window. She spent a few minutes straightening her room before gathering her clothes and heading for the recently-vacated shower.

Twenty minutes later she was entering the kitchen and, for the second time that day, being presented with a steaming mug of coffee. This time, coffee was accompanied by boiled eggs and toast.

She kissed Spike on the cheek in thanks before tucking in. She was starving and regretted not joining in with breakfast earlier. Her body was still too thin. She had lost a lot of weight with the stress of fighting Glory (not to mention being dead) and last time her appetite had been minimal at best. She still hadn't regained a healthy weight before the stress of fighting the First saw her once more shedding pounds she couldn't really afford to lose.

Now she was determined to get herself up to optimum fitness as quickly as possible, and that meant no more skipping meals. Spike was happy to sip his blood in silence as she ate.

Buffy sighed as she finished her coffee.

“I guess it would probably be best if you weren't around when Willow comes.”

Spike scowled and flicked his gaze at the sunlight creeping around the edge of the drawn kitchen blinds.

“Don't fancy dicing with death to appease the witch, luv.”

It took a moment for Buffy to realise what he was saying. He thought she wanted him to go back to his crypt.

“No! I mean, you don't have to go, just – you know – not be here.”

The vampire quirked an eyebrow. Sometimes the blonde valley girl was a little too close to the surface.

Buffy scrunched up her nose and tried again.

“I'm not sending you away. I just thought that having you around might provoke Willow, and since you can't sleep upstairs... there's an old camping cot in the basement. It's not the most comfy, but it will let you get back to your beauty sleep and Willow won't even need to know you are in the house. Oh – basement!”

Spike was more than a little relieved at her suggestion. Sleeping away the rest of the afternoon sounded much better than tense confrontation with Willow. It was a shame his Slayer couldn't sneak down there and cuddle with him. Her sudden exclamation at the end confused him, though.

“Is there something very exciting down there, love?”

Buffy furrowed her brow for a moment before she realised what he was talking about. She had made a rather random exclamation about the basement at the end there.

“What? Oh, no, I just remembered something that needs sorting right away.”

Spike focused his attention on the Slayer, hoping that whatever she remembered wasn't too deadly.

“What is it, pet? Demon?”

Buffy shook her head. Unfortunately, the problem was much more costly than simple slayage.

“Not a demon. Or at least, not yet. There will be an mmm-cookies demon soon that I need to slay before he destroys the house. I drowned him in the basement last time, after it flooded. The flood was what I remembered needing to stop.”

Spike looked utterly confused. It was far too early for him to have to translate Buffy to English.

“Cookie demon?”

The Slayer had the cheek to laugh! He scowled at her.

“Not a cookie demon.” Buffy giggled a little and shook her head. “An mmm-cookies demon. That's what Dawn called it, anyway.”

Spike groaned. Two Summers girls who couldn't call a demon by its proper name. God help him!

“Right. So how did the basement get flooded in the first place?”

“I tried to fix a drippy pipe.” Buffy explained, sheepishly. “And I did! Only, one of the other pipes didn't like it and burst. Then the plumber came and said I needed a whole copper re-pipe and gave me nice bill with a lot of pretty numbers on it.”

Spike somehow managed to bite back a smile and made a mental note to keep the Slayer away from any future home repair projects.

“Expensive, was it? I know a demon – graxlok – who owes me a favour or two. Could get him to have a look. We could probably strike a deal that doesn't cost you any cash.”

Buffy pinned him with a sharp look, Slayer at the fore.

“Does he eat people?”

The vampire grinned. It was refreshing that she was willing to ask even that much. Before... well, she would have shut down his offer of help as soon as she heard the word demon.

“Nah. Vegetarian, 's far as I know.”

The Slayer backed down. If he wasn't a threat to humans, then she could consider the proposition. She trusted that Spike wouldn't let her get ripped off. Heck, a demon plumber would probably be too scared of her to rip her off! Nonetheless, she was wary at the idea of bartering for his services.

“What will he want from me?”

The vampire shrugged. He didn't know, but could make a reasonable guess what the other demon would ask for.

“Immunity, prolly. Even the peaceables live in fear of the Slayer. Knowing he and his family's safe from your wrath would be more than enough.”

Buffy felt some of the financial anxiety lifting from her shoulders at the thought. That was something she could do. With certain conditions, of course. Then she realised that there was something rather important she should check before agreeing.

“Does he actually know anything about plumbing? I don't want to end up having to call the human plumber with his costly bills to fix it after.”

Spike put a hand between her shoulder blades and patted her twice. A reminder that he had her back. Of course, he wouldn't have offered if he didn't trust the guy to do a good job.

“You're all right, love. It's his trade – he works the demon neighbourhoods.”

She smiled and thanked him with a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“In that case, I'm sure my financial advisor will heartily approve.”


	9. Hideout

 

The couple had managed to make a rather cosy nest in the basement by the time Spike announced he could hear a key turning in the front door. Reluctantly, Buffy grabbed the pile of Willow's laundry from on top of the dryer and headed up to the kitchen.

She was in time to see Willow walking confidently into the house, a pile of folded boxes under her arm, and quickly crushed the twinge of bitterness at her friends completely unapologetic attitude under a tight smile.

“Hey Will, I brought up all your laundry. I figured it would help with the packing.”

Willow smiled chirpily and headed upstairs, calling back to Buffy over her shoulder.

“Thanks, Buff. If you could just put it on my bed, I'll sort through what I'm taking with me.”

The Slayer huffed quietly to herself before taking a deliberately slow, deep breath and repeating the thought that the witch would be going tomorrow unless she messed something up now.

Gritting her teeth behind a bright smile, she followed the other girl upstairs and dropped off the clothes. She found Willow staring furiously at a pile of obviously-not-Tara's girly things and stepped in quickly to diffuse the situation.

“Dawn volunteered her bed for Giles. She insisted he was too old to sleep on the sofa.”

The tense crackling that Buffy was starting to recognise as a build up of magical power dissipated when Willow heard that.

“Oh. Right. Well, I best get my stuff together. I don't know what I should take – do you think they will expect me to bring all my spell supplies?”

Buffy looked at her friend with incredulity.

“You're visiting a coven, Will. I'm sure they have all the magic doodads that you're ever gonna need. How about you box them all up for now and if it turns out you do need them then we won't have to go searching to ship it all out to you.”

Willow beamed at Buffy. It was such an innocent, honestly thankful expression that it tore something inside her. _This_ was the Willow she wanted back. The sweet, goofy high school nerd that had her back and was so afraid of hurting others that she couldn't even tell a lie.

It gave her hope, that her friend wasn't as lost as she often seemed. Last time, her stay in England had been a revelation for the young witch. Unfortunately, she had already been broken by the deaths of Tara and Warren, her own dark magic abuse, and the attempt to end the world. Devon had been healing but she was already afraid to cast _any_ spells before she got there.

This time, Willow was still at the arrogant height of her power trip and all Buffy could do is trust that older, wiser and more powerful witches would be able to help her friend _before_ she hit rock bottom.

“You're the best, Buffy.”

The Slayer gave her best fake 'everything is brilliant' smile and placed the bundle of clothes on the bed.

“Do you mind if I leave you to it? I don't want to get in your way. I need to do some more laundry before Dawn gets home and decides all her clothes are hand-wash only like I can't read the labels myself.”

Willow gave a dismissive nod, already completely absorbed in her packing.

Buffy barely remembered to stop in her sister's room to pick up her dirty clothes before fleeing down to the basement and Spike.

***

By the time she reached the bottom of the basement stairs the adrenaline was leaving her system and she was physically shaking and on the verge of a panic attack. A cool hand landed firmly between her shoulder blades, the solid presence of Spike a pillar of calm strength at her back.

“Breathe, luv. Nothing bad happened. You're safe. Just breathe.”

Buffy took a couple of slow, shuddering breaths.

“Did you hear?” she asked, her voice small and childlike.

Spike's hand moved up to gently massage at the base of her skull.

“Every word, luv,” his low, soothing voice washing over her.

Buffy allowed herself to melt back into his embrace. The pile of laundry she had been holding fell in a heap at her feet.

She spoke quietly, wary of sound travelling up the stairs to the impulsive witch.

“I just can't believe her! Ordering me around in my own home, nearly going all magic-apocalypse when she saw Dawn's things in Tara's room, not even acknowledging that her actions have hurt me... I wanted so bad to give her a piece of my own mind, but I had to hold it all in so she wouldn't cast a spell on me. I won't feel safe until she is confined to the coven with her powers bound until she learns how to use them.”

The last couple of sentences were barely a whisper, so terrified was she of being overheard.

Spike simply held her in silence as her breathing slowly evened out and her body no longer shook.

It didn't take long for Buffy to come back to herself and she quickly slipped out of his arms to gather the fallen clothes.

“I'd best get these into the machine.” She really didn't want to be accused of hiding. That would lead to awkwardness. Realising that her abrupt shift away from Spike was probably rather rude, she turned back to him with a smile. “Thank you. You always know the best way to help me.”

Spike shrugged in response and bent down to pick up a forgotten sock.

“Welcome.”

While the clothes were washing, Buffy busied herself with cleaning the couple of actual handwash-only items. As she worked, she watched with breathtaking fondness as Spike sorted and folded the previous load out of the dryer.

It was unexpectedly amazing how sexy he looked being all domestic.

Suddenly he paused and cocked an ear to the ceiling.

“Did anyone warn Tara that Red was coming over? Because she's about to come in the front door.”

Buffy dropped the top she was washing into the sink and dried her hands on her jeans as she sprinted up the stairs. The front door was just opening when she dashed into the hallway and pushed her way outside, shutting the door behind her.

“Buffy, what?”

She smiled apologetically at the timid witch.

“Sorry, Tara. Spike told me you were coming and pointed out that you probably hadn't been warned. Willow is in there, packing for England.”

Tara seemed to shrink in on herself at that.

“Oh.”

Buffy put a supportive hand on her arm and smiled.

“Do you wanna come hide in the basement with me and Spike?”

The question garnered a shy giggle and a nod. The two girls sneaked around the side of the house and slipped quietly in through the back door. They crept across the kitchen and down into the basement.

“'lo Glinda,” Spike whispered before turning to Buffy. “Don' think Red noticed anything. She's humming something to herself up there.”

Tara gave Spike a shy smile before dropping her bags and immediately taking over laundry folding duty.

Buffy gave Tara a sly grin.

“Now you see why I keep him around. The super hearing comes in really handy!”

Spike affected an offended pout, which only served to make both girls smile wider.

As she made her way back to the sink to finish with the handwashing, Buffy found herself pinned against the vampire's chest, his strong arms wrapped firmly around her. She blushed as he growled in her ear, pitching his voice for her ears only.

“That the only reason, pet?”

She could _hear_ the smirk and raised eyebrow, and couldn't help her reaction to the voice that oozed sex into her ear. Turning her head so that she could see his face, her blush deepened as she saw his nostrils flare and realised what exactly he was smelling.

She couldn't help herself from answering with a cheeky “Sure, what other reason would there be?” and giving his cheek a quick peck as she slipped from his arms and vanished across the room.

Tara watched their flirting with an amused twinkle in her eye.

***

At around half past one the phone rang and Buffy rushed up to the kitchen to answer it. She was not wholly unsurprised to hear her Watcher's voice on the other end.

“Buffy, I don't suppose Willow is there?”

Buffy chose her words carefully and tried to keep her voice chipper as she spoke. She didn't think Willow was listening in but she wasn't going to take a chance.

“She is. Has been for well over an hour. I thought you were bringing her over.”

Understanding, Giles responded in similarly.

“She was supposed to meet me here half an hour ago. When she didn't turn up I wondered if she had perhaps gone straight to you. I'll be right over – I promised her help with her luggage.”

Buffy forced out a cheerful “Bye, Giles, see you soon!” and hung up the phone. Once she had calmed down from her near-panic attack in the basement, she had wondered at the absence of her Watcher. It wasn't like him to break a promise like that, and he _had_ promised to be in the house with her the whole time Willow was there.

While she was waiting for Giles to arrive, Buffy took the opportunity to potter around a bit downstairs just in case Willow was listening out for her. She was pretty sure she was acting ridiculously paranoid, but had no intention of re-living the Randy and Joan fiasco. Or something considerably worse.

She went into the kitchen and prepared a tray with some snacks and drinks for herself and Tara while she heated up some blood for Spike.

True to his word, Giles came through the front door ten minutes later and headed straight upstairs to assist Willow with her packing. Buffy picked up her tray and retreated once more to the basement.

A couple of hours passed in companionable silence as the vampire, Slayer and witch hid out in the basement. On top of the dryer was a stack of clean laundry, neatly folded and ready to take upstairs.

They were currently all seated on the narrow cot, Buffy and Spike squished together opposite Tara. In the middle was a mess of cards and piles of buttons that indicated a card game in progress. Before they started to play, Buffy had spent five long minutes searching the basement for something that could be used as substitute poker chips after strictly vetoing Spike's suggestion of strip poker.

The Slayer was struggling to understand the rules, not least because Spike and Tara often disagreed and the vampire seemed to be showing her more variations of how to cheat than how to actually play the game.

Nevertheless, it was a fun way to pass the time in relative silence. Spike kept a constant ear out and occasionally repeated bits of the conversation between Giles and Willow that he found entertaining or thought might be important.

Eventually the vampire indicated that Buffy should head upstairs again. Buffy loaded up with her own and Dawn's laundry and reluctantly left the cosy gathering.

Once upstairs, she put the piles of clothing down on the sofa and headed once more for the kitchen. She figured it would be a good point to put together an after-school snack for her sister before starting in on the dinner prep.

She had barely arranged the jars of marshmallow fluff and peanut butter beside the plate she was using when Giles and Willow could be heard on the stairs.

Buffy reluctantly made her way through to the hall to meet them. Each of them was carrying a large box of clothing and personal effects.

“Hey, Buffy, I don't suppose you can take these out to the car for us while we bring down the rest? I'm taking everything over to my parent's house so that I have everything in one place while I'm packing. I can leave everything I don't need in my old room while I'm in England so it's not all in your way, too.”

Buffy gave the Watcher a grateful smile as she took the box he was holding and set it down by the front door. She had been aware that he had somehow managed to convince Willow to take everything with her right now thanks to Spike's eavesdropping talents and was immeasurably grateful at the thought that she could almost certainly avoid all further contact with Willow before she was due to fly out the next day.

The longer she spent around the other girl at the moment, the higher the chance she would lose her temper and completely screw up the plan. For the meantime, she bit her tongue and made with the box carrying. The sooner she loaded up the Jeep the better.

It didn't take long. Half a dozen trips up and down the stairs and the car was packed to bursting.

Willow gave a casual farewell before hustling out to the car in excitement. Giles frowned. He exchanged a look with his Slayer before following after Willow with a quiet “I'll see you later, Buffy.”

Once they had _finally_ left, she went back to the kitchen to prepare Dawn's peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwich. She sighed - sugar and carbs, everything an overly energetic teenager needs to make them even more hyper. Though, knowing her sister as she did, there would almost certainly be some disgusting extra slipped in before she ate it. Like pickles. Or sardines. Heck, she wouldn't be surprised if the demented child tried dipping them in Spike's blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Zabjade for her helpful suggestions for Dawn's sandwich fillings.


	10. What Lies Beneath

 

It was early evening when Giles finally returned.

Tara and Dawn were just serving up dinner and the teen rushed to fetch another plate. Giles noted Spike's presence at the table with a grimace but said nothing as he sat down opposite his Slayer.

“Hi Giles!” Buffy began brightly, “I'm glad you managed to get back for dinner.”

He smiled at her as he accepted a plate of food from an enthusiastic Dawn.

“There is so much I wanted to talk about before you leave on escort duty tomorrow. It's good that I won't need to smoosh it all into a couple of hours.”

Giles looked questioningly at her.

“I thought we had covered the important details in our conversation yesterday.”

Buffy screwed up her nose. She wasn't sure which conversation he was alluding to, but neither had covered all the important things she needed her Watcher to know before he left the Hellmouth, possibly permanently.

She decided to assume that he meant their group discussion before meeting the rest of the gang at the Magic Box.

“We covered the fact that Willow needs help, and that my financial situation is a mess, but that is by no means everything. We didn't even get around to talking about the nerds because we got totally sidetracked sorting Willow's trip to the coven.”

They spent the rest of dinner discussing the three idiot boys who thought that they could take over Sunnydale. After much back and forth over what to do, Giles made the simple suggestion that they first try the human law enforcement route as soon as the trio do something obviously illegal.

If that doesn't work, then they would be the second line of defense. At least they knew what to expect this time.

After dinner, they again settled into the more comfortable seating arrangement of the living room. This time, Dawn waited until Buffy and Spike were seated before plopping herself sideways on the end of the sofa and stretching her legs across both their laps.

The Slayer and her vampire simply rolled their eyes at the teen in an eerily simultaneous motion.

“So, there are a few things that I would like for you to take up with the Watcher's council when you are back in England.

“First, is the matter of financing their Slayer. I know that in the past they haven't had many Slayers live into adulthood, and those who did were supported by their Watcher. I am not. I have not only a mortgage and bills to pay, but a sister to support.

“I know that they won't like the idea. But the way I see it, they have two choices – either I can work every available hour of the day and much of the evening in a minimum wage job and they can hope the mentally and physically exhausted Slayer can still spot an impending apocalypse, or they can pay me for the hours they expect me to be patrolling and I can be fresh and ready to save the world at a moment's notice.”

Giles looked thoughtful as he processed her words. A rather guilty feeling squirmed in his gut when she pointed out that all the previous Slayers that had lived to her age (not that there were many) had not needed to work because their Watcher supplied their bed and board.

“I will certainly bring it up with the Council, though I am afraid that we are both well aware of what their answer is likely to be.”

Buffy sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, I know. It's just that I _really_ don't want to work at the Doublemeat Palace again. Oh, that reminds me – wig lady!”

Tara produced the notebook in which she had started to record any slaying-related details as they came up in their conversations and took careful notes as Buffy described the creepy penis-headed demon that she and Willow had put through the mincer.

“Right, so apart from dealing with their little demon problem I could happily live with never setting foot in that place again.”

She shuddered dramatically to emphasise her point.

“Maybe the information I have about next year will persuade them to part with some of their miserly hoarded cash.

“If we don't find a way to stop it, the First will bring down the Council and attempt to end the Slayer line.”

That got the Watcher's attention. His head snapped up from the journal in which he had been making notes on what he might say to the Council and his eyes focused on hers with fearful distress.

“The First Evil?” Giles asked, concern evident in his voice.

Buffy nodded grimly.

“The very same. Something – we thought it was the spell Willow used to pull me out of heaven – gave the First enough of a foothold on this plane that it was able to send the Bringers out to destroy the Watcher's Council and hunt down and murder every single potential slayer.

“I started having slayer dreams of girls being murdered next summer, and not long before Christmas you were on my doorstep with the three remaining Potentials from England and news that the Council had been blown up.

“The rest of the Potentials were sent to Sunnydale, the epicentre of the apocalypse, with the hope that staying with the Slayer would keep them safe. Not many made it, and of those that did... we lost a lot of girls, Giles. Too many.”

Buffy's voice cracked and she took a moment to collect herself. She rested her cheek on Spike's shoulder for a moment, allowing his solid presence to ground her to her current reality.

Giles removed his glasses and began polishing them. Vigorously.

“I can't let that happen again, Giles. Right now, we have the advantage. Last time it took months before the First was strong enough to start hunting Potentials. This time, we need to pre-empt it. We need to gather them. Now. Somewhere defensible.”

Giles nodded absently as his pen raced across the page, rushing to document her every word.

Tara stood, white faced and shaking, and pulled an equally pale-faced Dawn to her feet. Neither girl was prepared for the shock of this more detailed discussion of Buffy's last year.

They headed into the kitchen and from the clattering of pans Buffy deduced that they were probably making hot chocolate.

She really hoped they were. She could do with something hot and sweet to thaw the icy dread that had wound around her chest. This was the first time she had allowed herself to fully accept that a repeat of the war against the First Evil was coming in her not too distant future.

While the girls were in the kitchen, Giles leaned forward and spoke quietly to the Slayer.

“I must know, Buffy. How did you manage defeat the First?”

“I...” Tears formed, rapidly filling her eyes. The blurred vision helped her to distance herself from the discussion and the uncomfortable feeling that she was allowing her Watcher to believe a lie.

Spike's hand held her own in a crushing grip, a silent encouragement to say what she must.

She took a deep breath and tried again.

“There was an amulet. Angel brought it. He said that it was to be worn by the Champion for the Powers That Be. I think he wanted it for himself – it could only be activated by a stronger-than-human being with a soul – but I wouldn't let him wear it. He left us to our battle then.”

Spike growled when he heard that and Giles couldn't help but agree with the vampire's sentiment. How could that despicable creature claim to love this girl and then abandon her when she wouldn't let him take the glory.

Buffy continued, haltingly, to describe the end of the final battle.

“The amulet... Spike called it an Elizabeth Taylor piece... it did something. Channelled the soul into sunlight somehow and defeated the armies of Turok Han. Stupid Spike wouldn't leave when they were gone. Wanted to take out the whole Hellmouth. He was burning up – _we_ were burning up. Dusting. That's the last thing I remember before waking up back in my coffin.”

She turned her fierce gaze to the man she had once considered as a father.

“ _Now_ do you see, Giles. Spike is my Champion. The only one who had my back without question when we were fighting the First. I _need_ him. We won't survive this apocalypse without him and as much as I hate the idea, I _will_ kill you if you try to get him dusted this time!”

Her voice was deathly calm, almost a growl, and Giles most definitely understood that hurting his Slayer's vampire was not an option. The man might be a deplorable menace but if he stood strong and watched Buffy's back while she took out the armies of the First, Giles might be able to grudgingly accept his presence in their little family.

Suddenly, the words Buffy had used to describe the First's army filtered properly through his conscious and he started in shock _again_.

“Did you say Turok Han?!”

Giles didn't think his heart could take much more of this. The Slayer's answering nod had him on the verge of a panic attack.

“Tell me everything.”

Her report was to the point and almost militarily efficient. She described the seal, the first Turok Han that she slayed and every encounter thereafter while the Watcher furiously scribbled in his journal.

She then told everything she knew of Caleb and the Scythe.

Long minutes later, Giles finished his note taking and sighed.

“I will most certainly be taking up the existence of an army of Turok Han living under the Hellmouth with the Council. Maybe that will convince them of the urgency of your _slayer dreams_ and loosen their purse strings somewhat.”

His emphasis on the words confirmed to Buffy that she needn't worry about his telling the Council the truth of her situation. Being known to have prophetic dreams when an apocalypse loomed was going to be very helpful in keeping her secret.

Giles sighed and looked sadly over at the young woman he loved as a daughter.

“I don't know what we can do about the Potential slayers right now. If it were up to me, you know there would be no question. Unfortunately trying to push such a policy through the stuffed shirts that make up the Council will be almost impossible. Most of them are too convinced of their own superiority and power to believe that there could be any real threat. Even if they believe us about the Turok Han and the First.”

Buffy looked at him with an expression so haunted by pain and loss that he suddenly understood completely that this girl was not the same Slayer that he had buried.

Intellectually he had understood that she was somehow in possession of her future memories, but it wasn't until that moment that he accepted that she truly was an older Buffy. A Buffy that hadn't just lived another year and a half, but had led a war against the very origins of Evil and channelled her very soul into its defeat.

He was shocked back into the moment by her quiet, resigned reply.

“I know, Giles. Just – do what you can, ok?”

Their painful discussion was brought to a close when Dawn clattered out of the kitchen after Tara, both girls carrying trays. The ever-sensible handed out a round of hot chocolate while the younger girl misjudged and nearly slid her tray of snacks off the other side of the coffee table.

The hot drinks worked their magic, warming not only hands and bellies but the frigid atmosphere of the room. Conversation turned to lighter topics for a while and Buffy had fun teasing her sister with future knowledge of her favourite bands and TV shows.

The light banter continued for a while, even Giles being drawn in to making silly predictions that the Slayer would then confirm or deny. His theory that Dawn would slay her first vampire but do so without a stake had Buffy whipping the future slayage notebook from Tara's lap and scrawling a hasty _Halloween vamps_ while absently nodding.

Dawn gave a whoop and the delighted grin wouldn't leave her face until her sister told her to go get ready for bed.

She grumbled her way up the stairs as the adults all rose and started clearing the coffee table.

As Spike helped Tara carry the dirty dishes through to the kitchen and wash them up, Buffy put a hand out to hold the Watcher back.

“There is one more thing I needed to talk to you about. I don't know how long you are intending to stay in England, but if it is going to be more than a couple of weeks could you please arrange for the council to send me a temporary replacement Watcher? I am not a researcher, and neither are any of the others. We need someone who understands ancient languages and is trained in demon research if I am to do my job efficiently.”

Giles spluttered. He had been expecting her to ask how soon he would be returning, not order a replacement!

Before he could get properly indignant, she continued speaking.

“I love you, Giles. I want more than anything for you to stay and be my Watcher, but I won't make selfish demands. If you need time away, if you need to be in England to work on the Potential problem then I understand.

“But you can't abandon me as a Slayer. Even another Wesley would be easier to deal with than having to rely on my own research skills... and if they _don't_ want to send anyone, they can bloody well pay me for doing the job!”

Giles didn't know whether he was more shocked by the utter gall of a Slayer demanding a Watcher's salary or the utterly British turn of phrase and couldn't help the indulgent smile. His Slayer was certainly full of piss and vinegar and he couldn't fault her for anything she had said.

He wasn't sure what his plans would be, whether he would be needed more on the Hellmouth or dealing with Council bureaucracy, but one thing was certain – he was going to make sure that this girl never had to work in a menial minimum-wage job. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be utterly clear, the implication is that Buffy wore the amulet but she didn't really. Spike couldn't, as far as the others are concerned, because they don't know about his soul.


	11. Leaving on a Jet Plane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for the long delay in updating. You will be happy to know that I have quite a few chapters written now and will be able to update every Tuesday for at least a couple of months.

It wasn't long until they all headed up to bed. They said their goodbyes to Giles before retiring, as he was being collected by Xander a little before 5am and the Watcher had insisted that he would be happy to see himself out and nobody need get up in the middle of the night on his account.

For what would hopefully be the last time, Tara set the magical barriers at the doors. Nobody truly believed that Willow would try anything tonight, but neither would they sleep soundly without them until the witch was gone.

Closing her bedroom door with a soft thunk, the Slayer half-collapsed against it. Buffy was shattered. The last three days had felt more endless and exhausting than the last three months of battling the First. 

At least with the First she had known what to expect for the most part. The stress of worrying whether your well-meaning but power-crazed best friend might inadvertently destroy your life again was not something she dealt with very well.

In a moment, Spike was at her side. His arms wrapping around her felt like a strong, muscular security blanket and she melted against his chest as she allowed him to take on some of her worries. The solid comfort of his embrace was something she would never again deny herself. 

He half-carried her over to the bed where she settled herself on top of the covers, too tired even to undress. He lay down beside her and she curled up on his chest. Spike pulled her close, holding her tight in an unknowing mimicry of their last night together before the battle on the Hellmouth.

***

It was gone 4:30am when Giles quietly lugged his suitcase downstairs and settled in to wait for Xander. The house was dark and silent and he was suddenly overcome with bitterness at the fact that nobody was sitting with him, waiting to see him on his way.

It did occur to him that he had specifically told the others not to wait up, but still - it rankled! He was sitting alone in the dark, waiting for Xander of all people to drive him to the airport while his Slayer was upstairs canoodling with a vampire.

He shuddered at the thought.

He was about to go over to the window and check his watch by the light that filtered in from the porch when a voice came from the stairs.

“Oi, Watcher – what you sittin' in the dark for?”

Giles looked towards the stairwell in exasperation – the last thing he wanted to spend his final few minutes in Sunnydale doing was talking with that infuriating vampire! 

“You didn't really think we were going to let you leave without a proper goodbye, did you Giles?”

A lump formed in his throat as he heard his Slayer's words. Because he had thought exactly that. 

“I didn't want you losing sleep over me, my dear,” he said, completely ignoring the vampire in favour of the girl at his side. 

The light switch flicked on and they all flinched at the sudden brightness. Once he had blinked away the loss of his night vision, Giles was finally able to check his watch.

“Xander should be here in about five minutes. Then we will be collecting Willow before heading out to LAX. I'll call you tonight, once Willow is safely in the care of the coven.”

Buffy stepped further into the room, hesitantly approaching the man she had once considered closer than her own father. She reached out, not sure whether she wanted to hug him or simply put a hand on his shoulder, but was spared the necessity of choosing by a quiet knock on the front door.

She dropped her hand back to her side and made her way into the front hall.

When she opened the door, Xander was standing with his hand raised to knock again. He grinned at her.

“Hey Buffy, I didn't expect you to be up! Is the G-man ready to leave?”

It felt awkward, the totally normal way that Xander greeted her. Like he was pretending there was nothing wrong at all. As if he hadn't conspired with Willow to drag her out of heaven. 

This attitude upset her more than the way he had demanded her thanks last time, when they thought she had been in hell. She shrank back into the room, returning her attention to her Watcher. 

This time, she allowed herself to draw him into a slightly stiff hug. “Fly safe, Giles.”

He gave her a tentative squeeze before withdrawing, picking up his suitcase and moving over to the front door.

“I will speak to you tonight,” he reaffirmed, “and I will do my best to convince the Council to accede to your demands.”

She gave a watery smile and a half-wave as he walked out of the door and, quite possibly, out of her life.

As the door closed, she sank back into the waiting arms of her vampire. Her whole body was trembling from the tension of possibly losing her Watcher and at the same time, a whole load of stress was evaporating from her shoulders at the imminent departure of Willow. It was a strange, dichotomous feeling and she wasn't sure whether to sob or burst into hysterical laughter. All she could do was submerge herself in the safety of Spike's embrace and wait for her racing heart to calm.

Neither Slayer nor vampire noticed the wide-eyed shock of the carpenter as he shut the front door.

***

They had been driving for over an hour and Giles was stubbornly pretending to be asleep in the front seat of Xander's car. He rather liked Willow most of the time, but she had started her incessant chattering the minute her bags were packed into the boot and had yet to let up in her self-centred, narcissistic blathering. 

He didn't know how he was going to get all the way to England without throttling her.

Unwillingly, his ear tuned back in to the conversation between Willow and Xander.

“... and I understand that it is hard for her, knowing that I am getting this special magic training and she wasn't invited, but was it too much for Tara to come and say goodbye? I mean, I'm her girlfriend and I know she loves me but she has been avoiding me ever since we brought Buffy back. And don't get me started on how unfair Buffy has been about kicking me out while letting Tara stay. She was an important part of the resurrection spell and it's like Buffy just doesn't care, while I get the cold shoulder for saving her!”

Giles took several deep breaths through tightly clenched teeth. Only 18 hours until he can pass responsibility for the witch over to the coven...

***

By the time they pulled into the car park at LAX, Giles was no longer feigning sleep. Willow, in contrast, seemed to have gained energy with every mile they travelled closer to the airport. She was literally bouncing in her seat like a toddler on a sugar high.

Xander was exhausted. His resentment for the older man in the seat next to him had grown considerably over the past couple of hours. Willow was his best friend and he loved her more than pretty much anybody else in the world, but he really could have done with some moral support from the Watcher as they drove. There was nothing and nobody to distract the hyper witch from chatting his ear off about magic the entire journey and she was too excited to care that he only understood maybe one in every four sentences.

Finally, he swung into a parking space and gave Giles a rough nudge before escaping the car and unloading the suitcases from the trunk. He had maybe three seconds of blissful silence before Willow made with the Tigger impersonation and appeared at his side. He passed over her hand luggage before hefting the first of her two enormous cases onto the concrete. While he was manhandling the second case, Giles finally extricated himself from the vehicle and made his way to the back of the car to retrieve his own case.

The threesome made their way swiftly through the parking lot and into the airport proper. They had managed to arrive with plenty of time, but Xander was more than ready to see them straight through to the gates. He claimed it was because he faced a long drive home, but he could tell from the glare directed his way by the Watcher that the other man knew he was lying.

Willow just threw herself on him in a tearful hug. Suddenly, she seemed to realise the actuality that her trip to England meant leaving everyone she knew and loved behind. 

“I'm gonna miss you so much, Xan.”

He wrapped his arms around her in a fierce bear hug as she buried her face in his chest.

“I'm gonna miss you too, Will. But you'll be having so much fun with the magic and the studies! Just don't forget to call the Xan-man occasionally.”

She gave him a final squeeze and a kiss on the cheek before drawing back and wiping the tears from her cheeks. She may have been sad to leave, but there was no missing the sparkle in her eyes that indicated her eagerness to get going.

The two men shared a nod of farewell as the elder allowed himself to be dragged away.

Once the Watcher and the witch were out of sight, Xander headed straight for the row of payphones on the far wall. He dug through his wallet until he found the ugly-lobster business card that Willow had given him when she returned from LA after Buffy's death.

He was now rather proud of the fact that he had ignored his disgust at the idea and kept the card with Angel's phone number in the very back of his wallet. At the time he couldn't imagine ever wanting to voluntarily call the evil dead. Now he realised that he  _ needed  _ to.

The phone rang twice before being answered with a peppy “Angel Investigations, we help the helpless.”

He interrupted the prepared speech. “Is that you, Cordy?”

The voice on the other end of the line sounded utterly shocked. 

“Xander?!”

He sighed. “Yeah, it's me.”

She didn't seem happy to hear that. In fact, she had almost instantaneously reverted to her bitchiest Queen C tone.

“What do you want?”

Xander hesitated, because he really didn't want to admit it, but reluctantly said “I need to speak to Angel.”

There was an incredulous scoff on the other end of the line.

“Really?  _ You _ want to speak to Angel.” 

The disbelief in her voice was not really very surprising when he thought about it.

Xander huffed. “I didn't say that I  _ want _ to. But I  _ need _ to.”

He could almost hear the eye roll she gave in response.

“I'll see if he's around. He might be busy styling his hair or something.”

Xander was starting to get really annoyed now. Cordy had never been someone he could keep his temper around. He grit his teeth and said the magic words that would be guaranteed to get the broody vampire's attention.

“Just tell him it's about Buffy.”

There was a long silence before Cordelia spoke again, this time in an almost-sad voice.

“Buffy's dead.”

Again, the carpenter sighed. This conversation was taking ages and he hadn't even got to the point of his call. Stupid Cordy asking endless questions instead of doing her job. If she didn't hurry up his parking charges would go into the next hour. He wasn't made of money!

Still, he couldn't keep the happiness from his reply. “Not any more.”

There was barely a pause before a click on the line indicated that his call had been passed on.

“Hello, this is Angel. Explain.” 

His words were curt, impatient and just a hair from downright rude.

Xander took a breath and struggled to keep his temper. His explanation was short and to the point.

“We brought Buffy back. Willow worked some powerful mojo and Sunnydale is no longer slayerless.”

There were long seconds of silence, as if the vampire on the other end of the line couldn't quite process the words.

He sounded rather offended when he finally spoke.

“Why are you the one telling me this? How long has she been back?”

Xander smirked at the almost-whine in his tone. He loved having one up on the evil undead.

“Since Tuesday,” he gloated. “Willow planned to call you as soon as we knew that it worked, but she was all distracted by the trip to magic school so she must have forgotten.”

“Willow is going to magic school?” Angel asked, confused, then interrupted himself. “No, wait, I don't care. What about Buffy?”

This time Xander was the one to roll his eyes. Of course Buffy was all the stupid vampire cared about. Still, that  _ was _ why he was calling.

Reluctantly, he answered the question.

“Buffy is back, her normal Slayer-y self. Except Spike has somehow managed to take advantage and worm his way in to her home. He was there when I picked up Giles at 4am this morning. And they were hugging.”

The response was immediate.

“I'll leave as soon as it gets dark.”


	12. Cheese and Finances

Buffy had stayed rooted to the spot, staring at the door and wondering whether she would ever see her beloved Watcher return through it. Because the man who had returned with a handful of potential slayers was not the Giles she had grown to love as a father. She really hoped that history would not be repeating itself.

Spike was silent. He held the slayer firmly against his chest, allowing her to draw strength from him as she dealt with the emotional farewell and all the possibilities that might be drawn from it.

It was several long minutes later that she finally pulled away. She kissed his cheek in silent thanks and, taking his hand, led him back to bed.

As they settled back down to sleep, Buffy leaned over and kissed him gently. It was sweet and chaste and the only way she could find to convey how much she appreciated him waking her up and dragging her downstairs to say goodbye to Giles. Somehow she was certain that if they had allowed him to slip away, unacknowledged, in the middle of the night then there would have been no chance of his return.

Spike seemed to understand all the meaning she was trying to convey and pulled her closer, holding tight as the pull of Morpheus once more took hold.

***

By mid-morning, Buffy had shared a quiet breakfast with Tara before the other girl headed over to the campus to work in the library. Spike and Dawn seemed to be competing over who was the most nocturnal member of the Summers house as they slept the day away.

Buffy sighed. They probably needed it after the last few days. Hell, she _definitely_ needed a relaxing morning in bed but hadn't been wise enough to take that into account when she arranged for Anya to come over and help her continue tidying up her financial mess.

Still, in the few hours she had between Giles leaving and her alarm blaring, she had slept better than any other point since her re-resurrection.

The doorbell rang, and Buffy was not surprised to see the ex-demon had arrived exactly when she said she would.

“Hi Anya,” she greeted the other girl with a smile.

Anya looked unnerved by the enthusiastic greeting but crossed the threshold with a determined “Hello, Buffy.”

She presented the Slayer with a small box. “Xander always provides sustenance when we are researching so I thought it would be appropriate to bring an offering of food. However, I don't agree with his statement that donuts are one of the major food groups and thought that you might also prefer something that isn't almost entirely made from sugar.”

Anya looked nervous as Buffy opened the lid. Xander was always telling her that she shouldn't try to change things and her opinions weren't human enough for the rest of the group to understand but, after the pleasant evening she had spent with Buffy and the encouraging words from Spike, she had decided to be brave and bring along a treat that she actually enjoyed eating.

Buffy's eyes widened. Inside the box was a tray with a selection of cheeses, a pack of crackers and a bunch of grapes.

“Wow. This is so much better than doughnuts. Did Xan tell you I love cheese?”

The genuine enthusiasm from the Slayer made Anya feel suddenly as if she was almost a part of the group.

“If I had asked his opinion, Xander would have suggested doughnuts. Or maybe pizza. He is very set in his ways,” she said, blandly. “But _I_ thought it was time for a change and who doesn't love cheese?”

Buffy grinned and immediately took the box into the kitchen. She was busy arranging everything onto a couple of plates while Anya hovered awkwardly in the doorway.

When she finished, she looked up and saw the uncertain expression on the other girl's face.

“Anya, when I asked you to come over the other night, it wasn't because I wanted you to help me with my finances.”

The uncertainty faded into bitterness and Buffy realised that her verbal skills had once more managed to place her foot firmly in her mouth.

“I don't mean that. I mean I do, but -” she cut herself off and took a centering breath, determined to actually think before she dug herself any more into a verbal hole.

“What I mean is that the reason I asked you to come over wasn't the _main_ reason. I really do appreciate how much you helped – it would have taken me all week to do what you helped me get done in an evening – and I was definitely planning to ask for your help anyway, but that precise moment when I asked... it was really a cover for the real reason that I wanted to see you.”

Anya was no longer looking quite so upset, however there was a definite lack of understanding from the ex-demon. Buffy tried again.

“The real reason I wanted you to come over was so that I could talk to you without Xander and Willow. I wanted to tell you that I don't blame you for the resurrection spell. I don't know how much Willow 'helped' you to see what needed to be done, or how much you helped because you were scared that Xander and Willow would abandon you if you didn't, but whatever reasons you had – I forgive you. Just the way you walked out when I told everyone where I was, was enough to tell me that you had no idea where I had been and that you wouldn't have done it if you had known.”

Anya sniffled and tears glistened unshed on her lashes. Buffy moved across the room but hesitated in her instinctive desire to hug her.

Instead, she continued, “I also wanted to tell you that the trip to the coven isn't quite the prize that Willow thinks it is. We are essentially sending her to magic rehab and considering how powerful and manipulative she has become we thought that not telling her that would be the safest option. Likewise, we couldn't tell Xander because there is no way he wouldn't have let something slip to Willow.”

Anya gave a watery smile.

“I already know all this. Spike told me when he took me home.”

Buffy could no longer resist the urge to comfort and drew Anya into a brief hug. She stepped back again and let her arms hang awkwardly at her sides.

“I know he did. And I'm sorry. He shouldn't have needed to – that should have come from me. I was all ready to tell but you didn't let me talk before you jumped us right into the bookwork and by the time I realised that we still hadn't covered the most important stuff, you were already on your way out the door.”

Anya completely floored Buffy by initiating another hug.

“Thank you, Buffy. I think I needed to hear you say it, too.”

The girls smiled awkwardly at one another for a moment before Buffy gave a little shake and returned to the counter to pick up the plates of cheesy goodness.

“So, how about those finances...”

***

“... oh! I think you'll be very pleased with this. I found out that the house needs to be completely re-piped and when I moaned to Spike about how I was never going to find the money for something like that, he said he knew a demon that would do the job cheap – might even do it for a favour. Anyway, he's coming over this afternoon to measure up.”

Anya grinned. She had been really enjoying her morning with Buffy and the fact that she was willing to even consider hiring a demon plumber made Anya's estimations of the other girl go up considerably. Something had changed when Buffy came back from the dead and Anya for one appreciated it.

“Did Spike say what kind of demon he is?”

Buffy nodded. “It sounded like black sock...”

Anya rolled her eyes. The Slayer really should have a better grasp on demon names. How was she supposed to keep track of whether they were friendly or evil if she couldn't even remember their species?

“You mean graxlok? That would be Hugo. I had him do some work for me when I first moved into the flat.”

Buffy looked at her, gobsmacked. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

“ _Xander_ hired a demon plumber?”

Anya laughed. “Don't be ridiculous. I meant the flat I lived in before. When I first lost my amulet and didn't really know how human society worked. I needed a plumber and the only place I knew to look was the demon part of town. Hugo was very professional and did a good job. He only charged me half a dozen tabbies.”

Buffy looked puzzled. “Tabbies?” After a moment's thought she realised exactly what that meant and exclaimed “ _Kittens!_ What is it with demons and kittens?!”

The last part was muttered and definitely rhetorical, but Anya didn't care and answered anyway.

“Well, they are very delicious. It is common in many cultures to trade in delicacies rather than cash. In fact, it is only those of us that are trying to live in the human world that place any real value in _money_. Most demons think that the idea of fighting over scraps of paper is ridiculous.”

Buffy nodded, understanding (if not appreciating) the cultural differences between humans and the many peaceful demon species. She also noted that Anya had, unconsciously, referred to herself as a demon.

While she was still trying to think of a polite way to bring this up, the front door banged open and Xander made his noisy way into the house.

“Hey pretty ladies! How goes the accounting?”

Buffy sighed and began gathering all the paperwork together. “It goes.”

Xander wandered further into the room and spotted the plate with the remains of their lunch.

“Oh no, did Anya subject you to her stinky cheese fetish?”

Buffy looked up at him with a frown. “Anya brought a delicious lunch to share. I have no complaints. You know how much I like cheese.”

Xander looked at her, incredulous, but decided the safer option was to leave the conversation there.

“So, we got to the airport safely. Willow should be driving Giles crazy with her excitement somewhere over the Atlantic right now.”

Buffy spoke quietly, “Thank you for taking them. You should probably head home and get some sleep.”

Xander nodded. “Yeah, I'm pretty pooped. Just came by to pick up my girl as promised.”

Buffy nodded. “Well, we're done for the day,” she said as she stood up. “Anya, thanks so much for all your help. I'll call you in a couple of days to go over those things we were talking about for investment opportunities.”

The ex-demon was shocked to find herself gathered into a quick hug as the Slayer spoke. It almost felt like she was a valued part of her team, not just Xander's annoying girlfriend.

Xander spoiled the moment with his usual lack of tact. With an exaggerated look around him, he said “It's good to see that you finally kicked Spike out. What on Earth was he doing here in the middle of the night?”

Buffy turned away from Anya and began shuffling papers again.

“He was... keeping Giles company before you picked him up. You know, him being nocturnal and all. I think there was mention of a grocery list of things that don't exist in 'the Colonies' like proper tea and something called a marmite.

Xander looked like he didn't really believe her. Buffy didn't really believe her either, and she knew that every word was true... if you put it in the right context.

Anya broke the awkwardness of the moment by declaring that she had to get home because “Time is money!” and dragging her boyfriend back through the house.

The door shut with a loud click and before the Slayer had even turned around, Spike appeared on the stairs.

Buffy crossed her arms under her chest and gave him a _look._ “I thought I heard you up earlier.”

The vampire shrugged. “Was. Heard the Whelp parking up and decided to make myself scarce.”

It wasn't a bad idea, all things considered. Xander hadn't been in the same room as Spike since the brief meeting at the Magic Box and Buffy really didn't think he had actually taken in her words then. They had just got Willow away without any major drama – no need to provoke an argument with the hot-tempered Scooby.

She didn't have a chance to say anything else before he was almost thrown down the stairs by an overly enthusiastic Dawn.

“Hey! Bit! Look where you're going!”

Dawn had the grace to look sheepish. “Sorry Spike, didn't see you there.”

Buffy rolled her eyes at her sister. “It _is_ possible to walk around the house, you know.”

“Says the cause of 99% of our household repairs,” snarked the Key.

Buffy glared at her, but didn't rise to the bait. Instead, she turned her back and left to clear the plates from the dining table.

She moved all the cheese and crackers onto one plate and had planned to cover it and put it in the fridge for later but by the time she returned with the cling film more than half the contents of the plate had made their way into the mouths of the vampire and his teenage accomplice. With a sigh, she put the box back in the drawer and resigned herself to no tasty cheese supper that evening.

“So,” began Dawn with an unbelievably innocent tone, “what's the plan for today? Anything you need me around for?”

Buffy looked at the teenager with a knowing smirk. “Is that your way of asking whether I mind you going out with your friends?”

Dawn tried to look like she hadn't just been caught out in her ploy.

Buffy managed not to roll her eyes again. Instead, she spoke with utter seriousness.

“I have Hugo coming over in a little over half an hour to measure up for the re-pipe, so Spike and I are going to be pretty focused on that.”

“So... does that mean I can go to the mall with Janice?”

She batted her eyelashes in a way that Buffy supposed was meant to convince her to say yes. It really had the opposite effect and it actually took a reasonable amount of self-control to not automatically say no. Instead, she considered the benefit of having her sister occupied for the day rather than being bored and attention-seeky before replying.

“Sure, you can go to the mall. I don't have any spare money at the moment so it will be window-shopping only – can you live with that?”

Dawn sighed the sigh of a tortured teen but nonetheless agreed. She had barely seen Janice all week and was finally in the mood for some girl time. Even if it meant suffering with an empty wallet while the other girl spent frivolously. 


	13. Hugo

Not long after Dawn had rushed out to join Janice in her mom's car for a lift to the mall, the doorbell rang. Buffy opened the door to quite possibly the most incongruous sight she had ever encountered – even after having lived 7 years on the Hellmouth.

On the doorstep, dressed in typical working man's khaki overalls, steel-capped boots and a baseball cap, with a bulging tool bag in one eight-fingered hand, stood a bright blue demon with waggling tentacles where she assumed his ears should be.

He gave what Buffy hoped was a friendly smile – his lower lip flapped down and revealed the bottom row of viscous looking teeth. She gave a determinedly cheerful smile of her own.

“Hi! You must be Hugo.”

One of his ear tentacles lifted in a definite wave. “Slayer,” came his surprisingly gruff voice. “You looking for a re-pipe?”

The decidedly awkward meeting was broken by Spike as he came through from the kitchen, mug of blood in hand. “Hugo! Get your blue backside in here!”

There was an obvious release of tension as the graxlok recognised the voice of his poker buddy. He might not have been expecting an attack, but like any sensible demon was more than a little wary of entering the Slayer's home territory. Spike's presence gave him the confidence to enter and focus on the job.

Buffy stepped back and opened the door a little wider as he crossed the threshold. He edged his way across the hallway to Spike's side, obviously uncomfortable standing close to the Slayer.

“Look, Hugo, you come highly recommended. Not that I think Spike's ever had much use for a plumber but my friend Anya said you did a job for her a couple of years ago and she was very impressed.”

Another lower-lip smile from the nervous demon.

“But as the Slayer there are obvious issues with me hiring a demon. There is one thing I need before I take you on for the job: your word that you will cause no trouble for me in the slayage capacity. So long as the humans in this town are safe from you, I don't have a problem.”

A shiver ran down his ear tentacles in what Buffy was pretty sure was an expression of relief. She figured that hearing it from Spike got him here, but hearing it from the Slayer herself was what he needed to stop feeling threatened.

“Guess you'd better show me those pipes of yours then.”

She took his unspoken acknowledgement of her terms and led the way through to the kitchen. She paused at the basement door and spoke again with utmost seriousness.

“Also, I'm not paying you in kittens.”

Spike guffawed as the two demons followed the Slayer down into the basement.

***

A couple of hours later, Hugo had measured up the basement and had a fair idea of what the job entailed. The three of them were sat at the kitchen island, discussing the logistics of re-piping the entire house.

Buffy was surprised that Spike seemed to completely understand everything that the graxlok was saying about the plumbing. In contrast, she was completely out of her depth. Despite having lived through the re-pipe once before, she had let Xander take the lead and her only true involvement had been to sign the (excruciatingly large) cheque.

This time, she was trying to be involved. It was difficult and confusing but she was incredibly grateful that Spike sat back and allowed her to bumble along and make her own decisions. Sure, he gave some suggestions, but he wasn't imposing his opinion on the matter, just his experience. It was a subtle and refreshing difference that she really appreciated.

Buffy was surprised to find that Hugo was actually a really fun guy to talk to. Down in the basement he had been all business, measuring things and discussing what grade of piping she would want to replace the failing originals with (things she was pretty sure Xander decided without even asking her opinion last time) and afterwards he was all down to business, discussing the length and cost of the project.

Once that was all out of the way, though, conversation quickly turned more friendly. He complained that Spike missed their last poker match and insisted that the vampire not miss the next one, before looking very nervously at the Slayer as he voiced his next question.

“What I don't get is how come she won't pay me in kittens, but lets you gamble for 'em?”

Spike grimaced, uncertain whether Buffy was aware of the most popular form of chips when the local demons played poker. She rolled her eyes.

“He knows I don't like it,” she said with a shrug, her tone making it clear to Spike that she most certainly did know about the kittens and yet wasn't going to hold his gambling habits against him, “but I'm not going to dictate how he spends time with his friends.”

Hugo gave one of his lower lip-flap grins and slapped the vampire on the shoulder. “Got yourself a good 'un there, mate.”

She flushed lightly at the comment while Spike squeezed her thigh in agreement.

Desperate to change the subject, she blurted out “I didn't know demons had regular jobs.”

Hugo looked at her, bemused.

“'course we do. How else are we going to pay the bills and feed our families?”

Buffy shrugged. She had never really thought about that.

Instead she groused. “I wish there were Slayer-friendly jobs. I really don't want to work at the doublemeat, but with my stunning lack of qualifications I don't know if I'll ever find anything else that will take me.”

Ok, so it was a little self-pitying and she _did_ know that there was every chance Principal Wood would take over the high school next year and offer her the position of school councillor. But until then, the realm of paid employment was looking bleak for Buffy.

Hugo looked thoughtful but didn't reply. Instead, he politely excused himself and promised to see them again Monday morning.

Once the graxlok had left, Buffy and Spike had the house to themselves for the first time in what felt like forever. She knew that technically it had only been the day before, but that had in no way been stress-free quality time with her vampire.

She gave him a massive grin.

“What's got you so cheerful all of a sudden?”

Buffy wasn't entirely sure but spun in a carefree circle and made an attempt to put it into words nonetheless.

“Willow is gone, I'm not going to have a flooded basement and we have the house to ourselves for a little while.”

Spike leered and she rolled her eyes at him but allowed him to draw her into a hug.

“Thank you,” she said.

Spike looked at her, confused. “What did I do?”

She stepped back a little to look up at his face. “You let me sort things out myself. I know I was floundering and you helped, but you didn't take over and do it for me. I can't remember the last time somebody did that for me when it wasn't about slaying.”

She leaned up and captured his lips in a soft kiss, all the better to convey her appreciation.

Spike shuddered with pent-up emotion and he drew her tight against him in an unconscious show of strength. This reminder that she need never hold back with him unleashed some part of Buffy that had been holding back and she deepened the kiss until they were both breathlessly hanging on to each other.

He looked at her with awe-filled eyes and the expression broke her. So often she had seen that same face. Whenever she had stopped hitting him long enough to give him the tiniest crumb of affection.

There was no way she could stop the torrent of tears and wracking sobs. Spike tried to back away, sure he had misread her, _hurt her_ , but she wouldn't let him. She clung to him and buried her face in his chest and calmed a little when he finally wrapped his arms back around her.

It didn't take long for the sobbing to subside into sniffles and only a few minutes more for her to draw back entirely and wipe her wet cheeks with the back of her hands.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to turn all blubber-Buffy on you.”

Spike's look told her that was the least of his worries.

“What's wrong, love?”

She sniffed inelegantly and looked up through puffy red eyes.

“Nothing. Just... the way you looked at me. Like you love me.”

She forestalled the inevitable interruption that he _does_ love her with a finger on his lips and a gentle smile.

“I know you do, but you used to look at me like that last time around. Every time I was the tiniest bit... I wasn't even kind, just not-mean. And every time you would look at me like I was the most precious thing and I don't deserve that look.”

He kissed her then. Soft and fleeting but enough to stop her from saying anything else. He spoke in a hoarse whisper.

“I was so scared that it was me. That I hurt you...”

Buffy shook her head in adamant denial. “No. Never. It's never going to be like that again. I can't hurt you that much again!”

They held each other in silent comfort for long minutes until Buffy started to whisper a confession.

“Last time. Our first kiss – that was when it all started going wrong. Before that, we were almost becoming friends. Then we kissed and it made me _feel_ and I let my need to escape the numbness take over and then we had sex and it was awful.”

She paused for breath and noticed the shocked expression on his face.

“No! I mean, the sex was _amazing_ but it destroyed the almost-friendship we had been forming and turned it into nothing but meaningless, painful, incredible sex.”

Spike smiled indulgently. There was no way that sex with Buffy could be anything but phenomenal.

“That's not going to happen this time, pet. You have given me more than I could ever have dreamed of these last few days. In all my years with Dru I never imagined that I could have someone that loves me as completely as you do. If you never wanted more from our relationship than what we have right now, I would dust a happy vamp.”

Buffy cuddled closer into him. The weight of her anxiety that accompanied her thoughts of a physical relationship with Spike lifted a little with his heartfelt words. It confused her, because she loved him and most definitely desired him but the idea of acting on those desires terrified her.

“I'm scared,” she said – so faint he probably wouldn't have heard if not for his superhuman hearing. “I don't want to lose this. I don't want _us_ to only be about sex.”

He held her tight against him.

“I promise, Buffy. I will never place more value in sex than in taking care of you.”

This time, it was the Slayer who looked up with a look of reverence. Spike _never_ made a promise he wouldn't keep. To give her such a vow, unprompted, was perhaps the greatest gift she could ask from him.

“Thank you,” she said before leaning in to kiss him again.

It wasn't quick or chaste or passionate. It was a promise.

***

Spike had gone downstairs to tidy up in the basement and Buffy was relaxing in front of the TV when Dawn came through the front door with a Cheshire grin on her face and a fancy shopping bag on her arm. Buffy narrowed her eyes. Surely not...

“Dawn, can I see you upstairs for a minute?”

The teenager looked confused at the suddenly-stern demeanour of her sister but shrugged and followed her up the stairs and into her bedroom. As soon as the door to Dawn's room was shut, Buffy started ranting in a low voice.

“I don't believe it! I just can't – I have no words! I was so sure that it was a cry for attention before, and I've been trying so hard to be here for you this time but _still_...” she spluttered, trying to find the words, and Dawn took the opportunity to speak,

“Buffy, what are you on about? What have I done?”

The incensed Slayer thrust a hand towards the fancy bag that still dangled from the teen's wrist.

“This,” growled Buffy. “I _know_ that you only had a couple of dollars to cover your lunch, and I also know exactly how much things in that particular shop cost! There is no way that you could have afforded anything from there! I can't _believe_ you. It might have slipped your mind but I am all future-gal right now and Dawn Summers' five finger discounts will **not** be happening this time around!”

Dawn blanched. Her sister thought she was _stealing_? Her future self had been a thief? She didn't want to believe it. She wasn't a bad person – was she?

Choked up with bitter tears and cheeks blazing with embarrassed fury, she insisted “I didn't steal anything! Spike slipped me some cash before I left, told me to treat myself.”

Her words had been quiet. She was too devastated even for her patented shriek. But it was this subdued pleading and the distinct wobble of withheld emotion that drew Buffy out of her frustrated temper.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I believe you. I will be talking to Spike, but I _do_ believe you. It might take me a little while to trust that you are not the future you that I messed up so badly, but I am trying.”

Dawn sniffled and drew her sister into a big hug.

“I forgive you for being all presumpto-Buffy. It must be really confusing to have everything happening again, all the same but different. Just try asking before accusing next time, yeah?”

Buffy smiled weakly and gave her sister another squeeze. “Ok.”

They stood together for a minute, content to hold each other in a way that hadn't felt truly comfortable in years. When Dawn stepped away, she gave her sister a worried look and quietly asked, “Spike's not in trouble, is he?”

Buffy chuckled. Spike was always in trouble of some sort. But for this?

“No,” she said. “I'm going to speak to him, let him know what his sneakiness led to, but that's all.”

Dawn gave a decisive not. “Good,” she said before giving Buffy a sly grin and adding, “I like this new 'Spike is a good guy' attitude of yours. I never thought you'd take that stick out of your ass long enough to have another vampire boyfriend. I mean, Spike _is_ your boyfriend, right?”

Buffy was so shocked at the question that she forgot to reprimand her sister for the crass language. After a moment's thought, she gave the most truthful answer she could.

“I don't know. We still haven't properly talked about it.”

Dawn gave her a _look_. “What do you mean you don't know? You've had the guy in your bed every night since you came back!”

The Slayer gave her sister an utterly scandalised look.

“Dawn Summers! I'll have you know that it purely for comfort.

The teenager actually snorted. “Comfort. Right. I'll bet he's all kinds of comforting!”

Buffy wasn't sure whether she was more infuriated or embarrassed. She couldn't believe what her little sister was implying!

“Oh my God. Get your mind out of the gutter! I swear I didn't even _think_ things like that at your age!”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “You so did. I remember you and your skanky Hemery friends – all you ever talked about was sex and blow jobs and the latest fashions.”

Humiliated. That's what Buffy was feeling. She had been worrying about having the sex talk with her sister. Now she was utterly terrified at the prospect.

“That is so not true! And you know what I meant. Spike staying in my room has been strictly platonic. He's a perfect gentleman.”

Dawn smirked. “Of course. I believe you. Thousand's wouldn't.”

“Why you -” Buffy charged at her sister, determined to punish her until that infuriatingly smug expression was wiped off her face.

Unfortunately, Dawn dashed sideways and was through the door before the tickling fingers could make contact. As she thundered down the stairs, the teenager shrieked “Spike! Save me!”

A very panicked vampire came barrelling up the stairs into the kitchen. When he saw that the creature attacking his nibblet was none other than the Slayer herself, he scowled and headed back down to the basement.

Dawn took the momentary distraction of Spike's appearance to dart around the kitchen island, avoiding her sister and sprinting back upstairs, her bedroom door slamming behind her.

 

 


	14. Family Night

With Dawn barricading herself in her room, Buffy headed for the basement and Spike. Now that she was back down from the silly high of chasing her sister around the house, the horrible truth of what she had done to her hit hard.

Buffy felt terrible and by the time she got to the bottom of the stairs, tears were already leaking down her cheeks.

“Buffy, love? What happened?”

Spike looked at her with a sharp, worried expression that did nothing to stop the sob from escaping her throat.

“Oh, Spike, I've messed up.”

For a few moments, she just allowed the safety of his embrace to drive away all her troubles. Eventually, though, she had to speak.

So she did. She told him everything that had happened with Dawn after her resurrection and how she had been so focused on changing it that she had jumped to the awful conclusion that led to her accusing her sister of being a thief.

Spike listened, not saying anything, supportive and non-judgemental. Once she had finished her tale of woe and cried herself out, he gave her a peck on the forehead.

“I'm sorry, Slayer. I should've told you I gave the Bit that money. Would've saved you both the pain.”

She sighed and shook her head.

“It's not your fault, Spike. I'm the one who messed things up by jumping to conclusions. You just did something nice for my sister. I'm pretty sure that if I'd told you about her little kleptomania problem then you'd have warned me so that I didn't make a massive fool out of myself and alienate my sister.”

Spike snorted.

“From what I saw of the two of you running 'round the house like a couple of hyperactive puppies I don't think alienate is all that accurate. You upset her, sure, but you apologised. Bit's not as stupid as you seem determined to believe – she won't hold it against you so long as you don't keep repeating the same mistake. You definitely got some extra points for taking her aside and talking about it quietly rather making than public and humiliating accusations.”

Buffy shrugged at that. It hadn't even occurred to her _not_ to, and yet when she remembered back to how she had treated Dawn this year the last time... she had been terrible – shouting at her and telling her off in front of all the Scoobies. It didn't take a lot of thought to realise what had made her change that unthinkingly cruel behaviour.

“That last bit was a lesson learned from living in a house full of teenage Potentials. After the week-long cold shoulder the first time I called her out in front of one of the other girls, I finally understood why my mom was always careful to discipline us in private. I had kind of forgotten that last time I came back – I guess everyone had pitched in with the Dawn-raising and it didn't seem weird at the time that they all knew her every misdemeanour. Not this time, though. I don't want to hurt her like that again.”

Spike gave her a heart-melting smile. “See. You're doing a great job this time.”

Buffy wasn't sure she believed him, but was happy to melt back into his arms for a little longer.

When they finally ascended from the basement, Dawn had emerged from her room and was helping Tara with the dinner preparation. It was still early, but the sun had set and suddenly Buffy needed to let off some steam.

“Hey Dawnie, you still mad at me?”

The younger Summers shook her head. “Just don't do it again or I'll get Tara to turn you into a grasshopper.”

Buffy just stared blankly until Dawn huffed and elaborated. “You know, because they jump and you with all the conclusion-jumping...”

Buffy decided not to dignify that with a response and instead asked, “You ok if Spike and I do a quick patrol before dinner?”

Dawn gave a coy smirk.

“Is that what they're calling it now?”

The Slayer rolled her eyes and produced a stake. “Yes. Patrol, with the slaying and the demons...”

Dawn stuck her tongue out. “Whatever, dinner's in an hour and a half.”

***

It was a little over an hour later that Buffy and Spike came back, relaxed and ready for a peaceful night in.

They had just sat around the table when there was a loud, pounding knock at the front door. Buffy sighed. It would be nice if she could have just _one_ night where they got to sit and have a quiet, family dinner without any emergencies or other Hellmouthy disasters.

Tara made to get up, but she shook her head. From the angry sound of the fist attacking her front door, she would rather be the one to answer. She didn't want the gentle witch to get caught in any crossfire.

Likewise, she pushed Spike back into his seat. It was only a tiny chance, but if it was someone from the Council then she wouldn't want her vampire anywhere near them.

Grumpily, she crossed the room and opened the door. It wasn't the Council. It was, quite possibly, worse.

“Angel?”

The tall vampire lowered his fist and made to enter the house. “Buffy!” he breathed, in that puppy-dog way of his that she had once found so endearing. Now it just made her angry. She blocked the doorway and very pointedly did not invite him in.

“Why are you here, Angel?” she asked, genuine confusion colouring her tone. This had not happened last time.

Angel looked bewildered. “What do you mean? You were dead, but you came back. I needed – I thought I could help. I mean, I've been there, too.”

Buffy was not impressed. The last time, he had shown absolutely no interest in coming over to visit her after her resurrection. Last time, he had made her catch a series of buses to meet half-way to LA for an awkward conversation while he watched her drink coffee and talked at her about Cordelia. Something had changed, and she had a sneaking suspicion what had given him the extra encouragement to come over.

“I don't know which one called you, or what they said, but they obviously didn't bother with all the facts. Yes, I died. Yes, Willow brought me back. No, you can't help because as far as I am aware you have never been dragged unwillingly out of Heaven. I have had a difficult week and tonight is supposed to be my night off. Go away.”

Buffy had to hold herself back from laughing at the unfiltered astonishment that showed in his expression as he stared at her, not understanding this new, abrupt attitude.

He held his arm out to prevent her from slamming the door in his face before he could speak.

“Night off? Buffy, I know you must be having a hard time, but you can't leave the Hellmouth unguarded while you take a _night off.”_

Buffy couldn't believe it. She could very clearly imagine that Spike was being physically restrained from interfering in the other room. How could Angel possibly imply...

“If you are so concerned about the Hellmouth, you shouldn't have made sure that the Slayer was locked up in prison for the rest of her – presumably very long – life.”

Angel looked at her like she was an idiotic child and when he spoke, he used that slow, clear voice that implied he thought she was incapable of understanding big words.

“Buffy, _you_ are the Slayer.”

She huffed impatiently. This was not a conversation that she wanted to be having. Right now, she wanted to be eating her dinner with her family and relaxing for the first time in _days_ while she waited for Giles' call that Willow was safely ensconced with the coven. She had absolutely no interest in talking with Angel but he didn't seem to care.

However tempting it was to prove herself stronger and actually slam the door in his face, she gave a frustrated growl and hoped that explaining herself _might_ get him to leave without a fight.

“No. I stopped being the Slayer the moment that Kendra was called. Oh sure, I didn't realise that at the time. I kept on, doing my Slayerly duty, saving the world for puppies and Christmas. Then I died again. I was happy, at peace, _finished._ There was no new Slayer called – proof that the line runs through Faith now – but instead of accepting that, my _friends_ decided I hadn't done enough. Hadn't _suffered_ enough. They brought me back. Dragged me out of Heaven and dumped me into my body, which was still decomposing, six feet underground where they had _buried me._ So sorry, Angel, if I want to take a night off to get over the _trauma_ of digging my way out of my own fucking grave.”

She took a deep breath, trembling with suppressed anger, before speaking again in a decidedly frosty manner.

“I can't do this tonight, Angel. I need to go and finish my dinner and spend time with my family. Please go away. If you are that determined to have this conversation, come and find me tomorrow.”

And with that, she shut the door in his face and collapsed into the arms of the man who loved her, who had appeared with a burst of vampire speed the second she dismissed her ex.

***

There had been a decidedly frosty tone to the rest of the evening. The relaxed feeling that had filled her after the early patrol was long gone and the idea of relaxing in front of a movie was not sounding anywhere near as appealing as it had when Dawn suggested it while dishing up dinner.

She was tense and uncomfortable but determined not to let stupid Angel spoil her plans. So, regardless of her complete lack of interest in movie night, Buffy stubbornly pulled Spike over to the sofa and curled up against him. Dawn popped some cheesy teen flick into the VCR and then leaned up against Spike's other side. As the opening credits rolled, Tara came in with a big bowl of freshly popped corn which she set on the coffee table before seating herself in the armchair.

The film was terrible. Dawn seemed to be enjoying it though, and that was enough to make the Slayer endure the hopelessly romantic nonsense. Well, that and being snuggled up against her vampire whose fingers were trailing mindless patterns across her hip. The causal intimacy was making her simultaneously want to cry for having never allowed it _before_ and giving her decidedly non-PG thoughts about where else she wanted those fingers to be touching her.

She determinedly shook off the lusty thoughts – they were so not ready for that – and redoubled her efforts to follow the stupid movie. It was hopeless. Halfway through and she still didn't know what the main character was called.

Giving it up as a lost cause, she focused instead on the quiet comments that her sister was trading with Tara and Spike's occasional sarcastic interjection. Slowly, she found herself relaxing into the family atmosphere and her eyes drifted shut.

A shrill ring woke her with a jolt and she realised that the final credits of the film were rolling. Surprised that she had managed to fall asleep after the stress of Angel's unexpected appearance, she untangled herself from Spike's arms and hurried to answer the phone.

It was Giles. He was calling from Devon, where he would be staying for the next few nights while they settled Willow in. She took down the number so that she could contact him in an emergency, before quickly saying goodnight.

She returned to the living room and almost collapsed onto the sofa in boneless relief.

“That was Giles. They made it to Devon.”

 


	15. Taking Advantage

Despite the uncomfortable and intrusive encounter with Angel, the subsequent family movie night and good news from Giles had relaxed Buffy enough to carry her peaceful mood through to breakfast the next morning. It was only when Dawn was finishing the last bite of her peanut butter, chocolate chip and marshmallow toast that the teenager thoughtlessly broke her sister's good mood.

“So, how did Angel find out you were back?”

The pained sigh made her realise that this was probably not the best question to ask first thing in the mid-morning. Her sister had obviously been repressing the unpleasant encounter. Unable to take back her words, she decided instead to press onwards.

“I mean, it wasn't any of us. Anya doesn't know him and Giles still hates him for what Angelus did to Miss Calender. Willow might have, but she was probably too self-absorbed, getting herself ready for the trip to Devon, to even think about the fact that Angel might want to know you weren't dead any more. That only leaves Xander, but he _hates_ Angel and would never voluntarily talk to him, would he? Which leads us back to how the hell Angel found out you were back.”

Spike looked at her with a raised eyebrow. It was rather impressive that she managed to express her convoluted thought patterns in a single breath. Then he turned his gaze to the Slayer and it was obvious in her expression that she also remembered the outburst from Xander when he had come to collect Giles to take him to the airport. Both were fairly certain that yes, he would call Angel – probably the only vampire he hated _more_ than Spike – if it came down to jealousy over Buffy ignoring him in favour of the chipped vampire.

***

After the awkward mention at breakfast, Buffy set about actively avoiding the fact that her ex was in town. She spent what was left of the morning going over the papers she and Anya had begun working through the day before, then abruptly proclaimed that the afternoon was Buffy and Dawn time and had dragged her sister out the door with no real destination in mind.

Dawn was too thrilled at the fact that her sister was alive and _here_ to complain about the complete lack of planning or purpose in their outing. They had ended up spending much of the time wandering aimlessly through the town. Buffy had looked distinctly uncomfortable as they passed the darkened windows of the Magic Box before abruptly squaring her shoulders and fixing her sister with a stern look.

“Keep your grades up and I'll train you.”

Dawn frowned, her mind taking a moment to process the statement. When it clicked, she started bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

“You mean to _fight_? You'll actually let me learn to fight?”

Buffy put up a hand. “Woah there, sister. Get with the good grades, then we'll talk about the fight learning.”

Dawn rolled her eyes at her sister's typical mangling of the English language but the wide grin remained on her face for the rest of the afternoon.

They headed home long before the sun was thinking about setting. Buffy didn't want to risk either meeting Angel on the street or Spike being the only one home when his grandsire turned up. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that the broody older vamp was going to be on her doorstep the moment he could do so without risking immolation.

The hour before sunset was tense. The whole house was brimming with nervous anticipation as they waited for the inevitable knock on the door.

Tara was compulsively baking. 

Dawn alternated intense concentration on her homework with frequent suspicious glances towards the front of the house. 

Spike's pacing had driven Buffy to distraction within ten minutes and she had forced him down on the couch and literally sat on him to keep him in one place. He was now drumming a rhythmless beat against her hip as she curled up in his lap, drawing strength from his steady presence.

For all that, they were all surprised when the knock actually came.

Spike growled lowly in his throat but Buffy quieted him with a slap to the arm and a kiss on the head. “Don't start anything,” she muttered as she rose to answer the door.

“Buffy.” 

The half-sighed statement of her name, combined with puppy-dog eyes, was the frustratingly predictable greeting from her ex. They stood, face to face, whilst he waited impatiently for the invitation that he presumed was his right.

“Angel.”

Her tone was frostier, impatient, and he looked down on her with confusion, searching for the eager girl that always put him first and finding her suspiciously absent. Finally, he got tired of waiting for her next words.

“Aren't you going to let me in?” 

His words were soft, caring, but definitely still a demand. It was obvious that he expected her to obey.

Buffy frowned. Had Angel always been so overbearing and sure of her actions towards him? She didn't even need to consider the question – she knew he had. Just, before, she had seen it as a sign of his love for her.

God, how had she been so stubbornly naïve?

Focusing back on the situation in hand she asked, “Will you behave yourself? I don't want a fight.”

Angel's forehead gave the slight wrinkle that she recognised as his confused face. 

“Buffy? Why would I want to fight with you?”

Then he saw the reason – smirking as he leaned casually against the wall at the foot of the stairs. 

“Xander was right,” he muttered to himself though the Slayer and her vampire could hear him clearly. Buffy fought the urge to turn and exchange a knowing look with Spike. Their breakfast-time conclusion had been proven accurate.

“So that's why you bothered to come all this way? Not because you care that I'm back, but because someone told you that _Spike_ was here with me.”

Angel shook his head in a less-than-believable attempt at denial. 

“Of course not, Buffy! What makes you think I wouldn't have left the moment I learned that you weren't dead? I mourned for you!”

The slayer gave him a calculating look that he couldn't interpret. 

“And just how did you mourn, Angel?”

The confusion-wrinkle deepened and he stared at her, clearly not having a clue what she expected him to say. 

Obviously, she didn't expect much, as she barely paused before continuing.

“What did you do when you found out I was no longer here? You profess your undying love for me – did you even come for my funeral?”

Angel looked down, shamefaced. His non-answer saying more than any words could.

“Do you know what Spike did? He stayed. He patrolled the Hellmouth in my stead, without hope of reward, because he promised to keep my sister safe. So, before you start telling me about the evil and manipulative schemes Xander has obviously helped you assume that he has, explain why he is the only man that never left me – even _after_ I died and left _him_.”

The deliberately slow-and-even unnecessary breaths behind her told Buffy just how much her words meant to Spike. She ignored the pull towards him, the need to wrap him in her arms and tell him again that she loved him, though it was almost painful to do so.

She focused her considerable frustration on the speechless vampire that was on the _other_ side of the invitation barrier.

It was with a sort of morbid fascination that Buffy watched as Angel went through his entire bag of 'ways to make Buffy do what I want' expressions. The pleading cow eyes, the mournful pout, the 'disappointed in you' stare – not one of them made an impression. 

Finally she asked with not a small hint of frustration, “Is there something that you actually wanted to talk about, Angel?”

Her words shook him out of his silence. “He is taking advantage of you, Buffy. You have to see that! He doesn't care about you – he _can't_ love you. He is evil and soulless and you are going to regret trusting him.”

Buffy's reaction to his rant was a raised eyebrow. She was frustrated beyond belief that the vampire she had once loved was still trying to tell her how to live her life, but determined not to give him the satisfaction of showing it. 

Instead she spoke with a carefully controlled tone that, had he truly known her, should have had him shaking in his boots. It was pure Slayer.

“Honestly Angel, I think I prefer the manipulations of an evil, soulless vampire trying to take advantage of me by protecting my sister over the undying love of a vampire with a scarcely-attached soul that leaves me whenever times get hard or things simply don't go his way.”

She didn't even give him a chance to do more than stare in wide-eyed shock before slamming the door firmly in his face. 

The grin splitting Spike's face when she turned around looked painful. Buffy realised that it was likely the first time anyone had stood up for him against his grandsire. Thinking about it, it was very probably the first time anyone had chosen his side over Angel's full stop.

She quirked an eyebrow at him but his eyes just twinkled brighter with delight. Within half a heartbeat he had lifted her up and started spinning her around with gleeful exuberance. 

Buffy couldn't stop the giggle from bubbling up her throat even as she thumped his arm and squealed at him to put her down. Which he ignored.

Instead he held her tighter, squeezing their bodies together with a force that would have reduced a normal human to jelly. He finally stopped spinning when he captured her lips in a forceful, passionate kiss. Buffy stopped her half-hearted attempts to escape and lost herself in him.

A pointedly loud throat clearing separated them far sooner than either would have wanted. 

The couple broke apart and the separation seemed to remind them of the physical boundaries between them that they had just thoughtlessly destroyed. Buffy flushed bright red and Spike stepped back from the Slayer as if burned.

Dawn delighted in what she assumed was an embarrassed-to-be-caught response to her interruption. Tara, who had left the kitchen to spy on the Angel confrontation alongside the teenager, was less impressed by the couple's suddenly remembered fear of sexual intimacy.

Before the witch could decide whether or not she should voice her concerns, Dawn was bouncing towards them with ill-concealed mirth.

“You told _him_ , Buffy! Do you think he'll bugger off back to LA now?”

Buffy's quick admonishment of “Language, Dawnie!” was followed, after a brief moment of incredulity, by “And stop using stupid Spike words, they sound ridiculous coming out of your mouth.”

To which she received twin indignant shouts of “Hey!” and responded with a very mature stuck out tongue.

Buffy's mood quickly deflated as she remembered something. She stepped closer to Spike, all awkwardness forgotten as she instinctively sought his comforting presence.

“He came because of you.”

She spoke the words in a whisper, suddenly overwhelmed by the knowledge that the only reason Angel had bothered to come all this way to see her was jealousy. 

“What do you mean, love?”

Buffy sighed at the utter confusion in both the tone of his voice and his beautifully expressive face.

“Last time, he made me meet him half-way to LA. He didn't care that it took me all day to get there on the bus because he had important things to be getting on with and couldn't spare an extra couple of hours to drive all the way here. He only bothered coming now because he got wind of you encroaching on his territory.”

The frustration that she had refused to show in front of Angel found its way out with these words. Her whole body was trembling and her breathing hitched though she wasn't about to cry over him. Never again.

Spike leaned down so that their foreheads met. It was a strangely intimate position that forced her to focus on his cerulean gaze. He spoke in little more than a whisper himself, though his words were firm and confident.

“He left you, love. Not his place to say how you should spend your time now. Or with whom.”

Buffy gave an ironic smile. “He doesn't seem to think so. Hell, the only reason I got together with Riley was because Angel told me that I needed _normal_.”

Spike broke away from her when he heard that. Buffy was pretty sure he was struggling not to laugh in her face. After a few moments he had calmed enough for one of those passionate statements of fact he was so very good at giving.

“Normal? Pfft. What a stupid idea! Normal couldn't keep up with you and the Great Forehead knows it. 'spect what he really wanted was to make sure you were never happy without him so's he could always keep you on the other end of that line he had you hooked on.”

Buffy accepted the probable truth of his words and after a moment's thought she ground out her response.

“I can't believe it took me dying _three_ times to realise what a self-centred misogynistic ass Angel is.”

Spike had to literally bite his tongue to hold back the stream of snarky retorts that were fighting for release. He didn't want to upset his girl, but it was almost painful to let that opportunity for Angel bashing pass unacknowledged.

Sensing Spike's obvious need for a distraction, Dawn repeated her earlier question.

“So, do you think he's gone for good this time?”

Buffy shrugged.

“I don't know Dawnie. I don't think he will stick around to get the door slammed in his face for a third day in a row, but I sincerely doubt this is the last we have heard on the matter from Angel. He's not going to just let Spike win – even if he hasn't realised that I am not some trophy to be fought over.”

 


	16. Meet the Plumbers

 

Buffy cursed when her alarm went off at 7am the next morning. She was starting to see the distinct disadvantages to having a nocturnal life partner as the vamp in question didn't even flinch at the raucous beeping. 

She hadn't slept well. The drain of emotional exhaustion had finally hit at dinner the night before and she had gone to bed not long after. Spike had happily snuggled together until she fell asleep but then he'd headed out for patrol and left her alone in the bed. 

For the first time since she came back, she was sleeping without the safety of his arms around her to keep the nightmares at bay. She had woken several times, shivering with remembered fear and nobody to anchor her to reality. She might have avoided much of the emotional trauma of Willow's resurrection spell thanks to whatever Powers had given her this second chance, but that didn't make dreams of waking up in your own coffin a whole lot easier to handle. 

It wasn't until the early hours that Spike slipped into the bed behind her and she was able to fall into a deeper and more restful sleep.

But she didn't have the option of staying in bed. If it were just about seeing Dawn off to school then she was sure the teen would understand her not being there. Grudgingly, perhaps, but Tara would be up to keep her company.

The problem was that the plumbers would be arriving bright and early to start work on the basement this morning. Tara had morning classes, so that left Buffy as the only member of the household capable of functioning like a person in the hours before noon. Still, she was tempted to force Spike to keep her company as payment for her restless night – only dealing with a grumpy, growly vampire was more than she had the energy for right now.

Knowing that if she didn't drag herself out of bed _right now_ then there was a serious danger of falling back to sleep, Buffy reluctantly disengaged the snuggly vampire and headed for the shower. 

Not long after, and only mildly more awake, she shuffled into the kitchen. Tara, goddess that she was, presented her with a steaming cup of coffee. Buffy grinned.

“Mmm... caffeiney goodness. I could kiss you, Tara.”

The witch gave her a cheeky smile. “What would Spike say?”

Buffy shared an amused look and responded dryly.

“I can't imagine he would complain.”

“Who would complain about what?” came the too-chirpy-for-this-time-in-the-morning voice of Dawn from the bottom of the stairs. 

Tara gave Buffy an evil smirk which made it perfectly clear that she wasn't going to help the Slayer out of her hole. For a moment, Buffy imagined just turning around and answering “I didn't think Spike would complain about me kissing Tara – do you agree?” but she honestly wasn't brave or awake enough to face her sister's inevitably high-pitched response. 

Instead, she said “nothing important, Dawnie. You ready for school?”

The teenager gave her an unimpressed look, her expression clearly saying that she didn't like being kept out of the loop, but fortunately she decided that it wasn't important enough to start a fight over. 

The girls had breakfast together and Buffy waved off her sister and the girl that was quickly coming to take the place in her heart that once belonged to Willow. She had just poured herself a second mug of coffee when the doorbell rang.

She opened the door and was unsurprised to see Hugo and two others on her porch. He greeted her with an enthusiastic wave of an ear tentacle. “Slayer.”

She smiled and raised a hand in greeting.

“Hugo. I thought I told you to call me Buffy?”

His bottom lip-flap half lowered on one side in what Buffy took to be a sheepish gesture. “That you did. Sorry, Slayer.”

Buffy rolled her eyes – she had a feeling that it would take a long time for even the most friendly demons to start thinking of her as a person and not just the _Slayer_. Not that she had ever sought to fight the peaceful types, but being their personal boogy man was a bit of a social handicap.

“Well, I guess you'd better come on in.”

Hugo entered with confidence, as did a human-looking man who gave off distinctly demon vibes. Behind them trailed another Hugo-type demon that seemed somehow very young. All three were dressed in plumber's overalls and carrying a tool bag.

Hugo made the introductions. Indicating with an ear tentacle pointed towards the human-ish person, he said:

“This is Janstivoon Walker. Steve to humans. He's half-Brachen and my second in command.”

Steve (Buffy doubted she could ever learn to properly pronounce his full name) offered her a hand and she shook it without hesitation. He smiled charmingly at her.

Hugo then pulled the young, blue demon out from where he was trying to be inconspicuous in the shadow of his elders. 

“and _this_ is Mikey. My eldest. He's training up to take over the family business.”

Buffy smiled at the young graxlok. It wasn't hard to interpret Hugo's waggling lower lip flap as a grin of fatherly pride. 

Mikey gave her a nervous quiver of an ear tentacle before focusing his attention on the floor.

“Right, well, come through to the basement all of you and you can get yourselves set up.” In deference to the obviously terrified young demon she added, “I'll stay up here unless you need me.”

Buffy shocked herself with how comfortable she felt allowing the three demons unsupervised access to a part of her home. She had absolutely no worries that they would try to take advantage of her – if for no other reason that the fact that they knew better than to get on her bad side. She guessed it was kind of like working for a mob gangster and knowing that doing a bad job would leave you pushing up the daisies. Apart from the mob bit. And the gangster. So really, not very. But still...

She distracted herself with such circuitous thoughts while enjoying her coffee and setting up the dining table as a finance-resuce station. Anya had agreed to come over again on Thursday after work and she wanted to have sorted through as much of the financial mess as possible by then. 

Also, she needed _something_ to distract her from the very comfortable vampire in her bed.

***

A throat clearing distracted Buffy from her tangled web of paperwork and she looked up to find Hugo in the doorway.

“The lads and I are gonna stop for a spot of lunch now. Is it ok if we get some fresh air and eat out in your yard?”

A quick glance at the clock on the wall told her that yes, she had been working for over four hours. Apparently time could fly even if you weren't having fun.

She smiled up at Hugo. “Yeah, sure. In fact, I might fix myself something and join you – I haven't spent nearly enough time out in the sun this last week.”

The demon gave her a fully lowered lip flap grin and left. 

Buffy followed him through to the kitchen and made herself a sandwich. When she opened the fridge, she found a large jug of iced tea with a note attached _for the plumbers_. Making a mental note to thank Tara when she got home, Buffy set the jug, four glasses and her lunch on a tray and made her way out into the sunshine.

It was weird, seeing bright blue demons sunbathing. Despite _knowing_ that there were many non-human species that weren't the slightest bit bothered by sunlight, her inner Slayer still struggled with the concept of seeing demons in the daytime.

There wasn't much conversation while they ate. Buffy made a point of not thinking too hard about what was in the ooky demon sushi that Hugo and Mikey were eating, focusing instead on the yumminess that is ham and cheese. 

She tried to make herself as non-threatening as possible to poor Mikey. The young demon spent his entire lunch break watching her nervously and only answering direct questions with quiet, monosyllabic answers.

Then again, that attitude could just be the fact he was clearly a teenager (in development at least – she didn't want to offend anyone by asking how old they actually were).

Still, she enjoyed the sun and the food and the company until the three demons decided that it was time to head back to work. Following them into the house with her tray, Buffy realised that whatever small amount of enthusiasm she had been able to muster that morning had been effectively quashed. She could not bear to even think for one more moment about the looming mountain of papers that covered half the dining table. 

She decided that the four hours she had put in that morning had made a sufficient dent for now – perhaps she could persuade Spike to help her out with a bit more in the evening.

Thoughts of said vampire quickly filled her mind and she realised what it was that her twitchy muscles wanted – a fight. Or more accurately, a decent sparring session with her favourite supernaturally strong partner. 

Eagerness to make that idea a reality had her bouncing up the stairs and onto the bed. She had a random thought that there was probably some kind of saying about letting sleeping vamps lie, but dismissed it. Perhaps it was true, but she doubted that this particular specimen would object to her method of awakening.

Buffy leant forward until her face was hovering barely an inch above his. She took a moment to admire him – sleep mussed curls, razor sharp cheekbones and soft, pouty lips – before leaning just that little bit lower to capture those delicious lips with her own. As she predicted to herself, he woke with a smile.

“Mornin' luv,” he said with a sleep-husky voice that sent shivers of desire down her spine. “'time is it?”

She sat back up and checked her watch unnecessarily. “Around half one.”

Raising himself on his elbows, he quirked a suggestive eyebrow.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of such an early call?”

Buffy ignored the flirtatious overtones and practically bounced in place.

“I wanna go spar.”

Spike looked at her blankly, obviously not understanding what she meant.

“An' what? You want a biased referee?”

Buffy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms under her breasts.

“No, stupid. I want to spar with _you_.”

The lack of comprehension faded into something a lot more bitter, but his tone was gentle and placating. Buffy imagined it was the same one he used on Dru whenever she said something especially crazy.

“Can't fight you, pet. Chip.”

Buffy was torn between pouting over being treated like his insane-o ex and frowning at his lack of very-important knowledge that she was _certain_ she had explained already. 

“Of course you can – cellular sunburn, remember?”

By the very confused frown on the sleepy vampire's face it was obvious that he didn't remember at all. So maybe she hadn't said anything, which was perfectly possible considering the amount of crazy stressfull stuff that had been going on for the last week. _God, had it only been a week?!_

“I'm sure I told you,” she muttered. “After Willow brought me back there was, like, a teensy change in my DNA, which makes the chip not register me as human anymore. Which means that we can spar!”

She was once again almost vibrating with excitement at the idea. Spike was struggling to understand the abnormal amount of enthusiasm she was showing – sure, there was very little that he could imagine as being better than fighting this Slayer (and most of _that_ was pretty much taking the sparring to a horizontal and naked level) but the way she was physically incapable of hiding how much she wanted it...

Perceptive vampire that he was, he managed to cut straight to the core of the matter.

“That something we did a lot before?” 

She paused, clearly remembering. “No,” she finally answered sadly. “We didn't spar.”

The implication that there had still been violent encounters, though not of the fun kind, came through loud and clear. 

“Well, love, we'll have to change that then. But not now.”

This time she narrowed her eyes and poked his shoulder with enough force that a human would have bruised, though it didn't register as painful to the vampire.

“Don't tell me you're too tired! I barely slept all night and I've still managed to stay awake through a morning of accounting, so you've got no excuse mister!”

Wrapping his fingers around the hand that was preparing to poke him a second time, he placed a gentle kiss on the extended digit before giving a sharp tug so that she practically fell onto his chest. 

Spike lay back down, wrapping his arms around her and mumbling softly in her ear.

“Not what I was gonna say, love. Meant we can't spar because the basement is full of demons, the sun rules out the garden and one of us has to be here for the plumbers so we can't use the Magic Box.”

Even though her face was mushed against his sternum, Spike could _feel_ her pout. Finally she gave a nod of reluctant acceptance before whining “But my muscles are all twitchy.”

The thought of twitching Slayer muscles set his mind off down a very pleasurable path. He was still not entirely sure that he believed the amazing fact that he was now able to get physical with Buffy without the worry that he might accidentally set his chip off, which would be a definite mood killer. Spike decided that he needed confirmation. Right now.

She screeched and slapped his shoulder in playful payback for the viscious pinch he had given her bum. Returning to their conversation, he gave a lecherous eyebrow waggle. 

“Can't have that now, can we, kitten,” he flirted. 

Kissing her on the nose, he stopped teasing and gave her a compromise.

“Go an' have a walk in the sun for a bit, pet. I'll hold the fort here until Hugo and his boys clock off and then we can meet at the Magic Box and spar. That work for you.”

Buffy basked for a moment in the perfect boyfriend that was Spike. 

“I guess... Except that I don't feel like walking for hours while I wait for you – do you think we could go downstairs, put on a movie and snuggle for a bit first?”

His grin said that he didn't mind that idea one little bit.


End file.
